Something Wicked
by The Magnificent Kiwi
Summary: A happily married Suze and Jesse find themselves as victims of a deadly ancient force. Will their marriage survive their struggle for freedom? More importantly, will their unborn child? Sequel to Trials and Tribulations.
1. Prologue

**Something Wicked**

**To Suze, ghosts have always been corporeal. But when a new, malevolant force takes hold of her seemingly perfect life, she discovers that what she knows of evil barely scratches the surface.**

_**Prologue -**Home_

"It's perfect," I announced, pulling free from my husband's embrace. He looked at me with doubt in his eyes.

"I don't know," he said. I knew he would be like this. I have lost count of the amount of houses we have looked at, houses that have been perfect in every way, yet he still found a fault in them.

"What's wrong with this one?" I asked, exasperated. I swear, if he hasn't got a good reason this time, all bedroom privilages will be cut off for a month. I can cope, he can't.

He raised a hand to his thick black hair and ran his fingers through it. I could tell by this small action that he was nervous. Nervous of what I would do if he did not reply with an excellent reason. Damn right, he should be nervous.

"Don't you think it's a bit...superfluous?" He asked, refusing to make eye contact.

"Su-what?" Was my ever-so-intelligent reply. Yeah, the girl with two degrees can't recognise a world like that. Jesse was obviously thinking along similar lines because he laughed quietly before repeating his sentence in words that I could understand.

"Don't you think it's too big?" He asked. "Four bedrooms, two of which are en-suite, a seperate dining room, a back garden the size of our current apartment! _Querida_, we don't need all this!"

I turned my back to him and concentrated instead on the amazing view from the master bedroom. This house is beautiful, and the current owners aren't asking a fortune for it. This house truly is a rare find. I was happy to let the others go, but not this one. This one _will_ be ours.

"Not _now_ we dont'!" I exclaimed. "But think about it. We have a master bedroom, a study, a guest room and a nursery! It's perfect."

He just stared at me like I was mad. Which I probably am, but that's beside the point.

"_Querida_, we don't have any children," he reminded me. Was there any getting through to this guy?

"I know that," I sighed. "But we have been married for six years. Chances are there will be a baby on the way soon. It doesn't hurt to be prepared."

I turned back around and walked towards him and began to play suggestively with the collar of his shirt. We had both come to view this house on our way home from the hospital, so we still wore our work clothes. Which was disappointing because the shirt he wore hid everything that lay beneath. It really didn't do him any justice at all. But whatever, I caught the realtor (I think her name is Jenny) leering at him before, so it obviously doesn't take away too much.

"Please," I pleaded, attempting to make my voice all seductive (and probably failing miserably). "I'm sick of living in that apartment. We're married, we will be starting a family soon. We need more space."

Something flickered in his eyes. Was it...resignation? Was I finally getting through? Was I..._winning_?

"I don't know," he said, but this time his tone was different and I could practically see the conflict in his eyes.

'_Yes_,'I willed him. '_Give in. Give in to me. Say we can buy this house_.'

He looked down at me with those intelligent eyes and let out a sigh.

"All right," he said. "We will buy it. But you owe me!"

Hah! I still have it in me! They all come round eventually. Even the gorgeous-yet-stubborn doctors. And as for owing him? He never remembers stuff like that.

"Great!" I squealed (yeah, deep down I'm still a sixteen-year-old). "We can move in by the end of the week! I mean, the previous owners refurbished the placebefore they moved up so we don't need to decorate and the electricity and gas will be on in a couple of days and ohmygodthisisgoingtobesogreat!"

He laughed at me, obviously unable to understand a single word that fell from my mouth. Even at twenty-four, I still babble. Old habits die hard, I guess.

I threw my arms around him, happy that at last we had a place to call our own. Don't get me wrong, the apartment we currently live in (a wedding gift from my grandmother...it is a large apartment) is great and all, but I need more. I have a husband, now I want a home. We may be childless, but it will not stay that way forever. For the past six years we have both been concentrating on our studies and our careers. But now we are both settled into our careers (alright, Jesse is, I have only been working as a Clinical Psychologist for a month or so now) I am hoping that I will be applying for maternity leave soon. I don't know how well that will sit with my boss, but she can complain all she wants, I don't care.

Our moment was ruined when Jenny bounded through the door. No doubt she was alerted by my squeals of joy.

"Have you made your decision yet?" She asked. I noticed her drag her eyes up from wherever she was looking. Given the fact that Jesse's back was to her, I didn't doubt where her lustful gaze had been.

Jesse smiled down at me before turning back to Jenny.

"We'll take it."

* * *

CeeCee was less than enthusiastic about our plans to move. 

"But who am I going to dump little Aaron on when he won't stop crying?" She wailed when I informed her of our relocation.

"Cee, we are only moving a few streets away!" I told her. "And why don't you hire a nanny for Aaron?"

She looked at me like I was insane.You can't get a nanny for a seven-month-old baby. As a psychology graduate, I know how important the first couple of years of a child's life are. The most important bonds are formed in this time and with a nanny as the primary care giver, the chances of Adam and CeeCee bonding properly with their son will be slim.

CeeCee told me this and I instantly regretted 'shrinking' her, as she calls it.

"Besides, you just live in the next sreet, and you _know_ how good Jesse is with kids!" She continued. "Seriously, all he has to do is talk to Aaron and the crying just stops. You know, you are so lucky to be married to a guy like that! Do you know what Adam does when Aaron cries? He makes these ridiculous noises that cause the kid to cry even more! When you guys agreed to be Aaron's godparents, you basically signed up for helping me out."

"Cee, you don't need help," I laughed. "You are doing a great job, you just don't realise it. Besides, babysitting makes me broody."

CeeCee howled at this. I didn't think it was so funny.

"Then get yourself knocked up," she told me. "The new house sounds like a perfect place to raise a couple of rugrats."

I pretended to be offended by her suggestion.

"Excuse me," I said, incredulously, "I do not want to get _'knocked up'_! I will have kids when the time is right. And I am so sure that the clinic will be pleased if they find out one of their employees got pregnant a month after they were hired. I doubt I even qualify for maternity leave yet."

CeeCee chuckled and handed me a glass containing a smoothie of unknown flavour. I bought her a smoothie machine for her twenty-fourth birthday and ever since then she has experimented with turning everything she can get her hands on into a smoothie. I just hoped that this one was not sardine and pickle.

"Anger at losing my babysitter aside, I'm happy for you guys," she said. "You don't deserve to be cooped up in that apartment forever. As long as you aren't moving into the Amityville house." One of her blonde eybrows went up with this last sentence.

I laughed before bravely swallowing some of my smoothie. Strawberry and kiwi. Thank God.

"No," I replied. "The previous owners sold because they're moving to Chicago. They renovated the house so it's all brand new, but they had to halve the asking price for a quick sale. We were very lucky to get it."

"I'll say."

I smiled again because, for once in my life, things were going my way. After six years of marriage my husband and I are still as happy together as we were on our first date and I haven't dealt with a single violent ghost in four of those years. Although I think the reason for that would be sending them all to Paul. Hey, I can't kick butt all the time!

Ghosts still approach me, and occasionaly I have to do a bit of detective work. Infact, I had to do so much in my freshman year at college that I was seriously considering switching majors. But over the past year or so, the number of violent spirits have thankfully decreased. At least in Carmel, anyway. And although I have spoken to many clients who claim to see 'people who aren't there', I have yet to meet another mediator.

"So are you guys still coming over on Friday?" She asked. Of course. Friday night is the night everyone gets together. It just happened to be CeeCee's turn to host this week. For which I am thankful; our apartment is in a bit of a state at the moment.

"Sure," I replied."I'm actually looking forward to it. It's been one hell of a week. Maybe I should change the sign on my office door; Dr. Susannah de Silva, Clinical Psychologist to those in posession of a pulse." I shook my head in disbelief. "I knew that working in a hospital was a bad idea."

The clinic I work for was part of the local hospital where Jesse worked. It was a different department, but the ghosts didn't care. I, on the other hand, cared a lot when my one-fifteen is interrupted byConfused Ex-Patient From Ward Fourteen. Seriously, my patients are going to start to think that_ I_ need to see a shrink.

"Ghost trouble?" She asked, stifling a laugh.

"Jesse hasn't got time to deal with the ones wandering around the hospital," I explained. "He is thinking about training for surgery next year, but he's not sure about it, with the mediating duties. I'm having a hard time persuading him to go for it. It will be good for him. Besides, most of the ghosts there just need to be told that they are dead."

Our conversation was interrupetd by a high-pitched shrieking from directly above us. The front door slammed shut and a disgruntled voice yelled "I've got it" before we heard its owner slowly climb the stairs.

"I'm sorry," I apologised. "I've stayed too long. I better get going."

"Oh," CeeCee replied as I drained the rest of my delicious smoothie. I really should buy one of them for myself. "It's no problem. But thanks for letting me know about the house."

I said goodbye to her (and Adam, once he had sorted out Aaron) before jogging across the street. Our apartment block is only a street or two away from CeeCee's house, so I didn't really see any point in driving over.

I began to wish that I had at least changed out of my work clothes before visiting my friends. My pencil skirt was beginning to chafe and I was beginning to burn up in my shirt.

Tomorrow, I am _so _wearing one of those sundresses Gina bought for my birthday.

* * *

**CeeCee's POV**

I gues I laid it on a bit thick. Of course, I'm ecstatic over the news and I honestly don't care that I will probably have to find a new babysitter. Adam has been a lot more helpful ever since he got over his aversionto nappies. There's something about men and baby poo. I just don't get it.

"He's settled now," Adam assured me. "What did Suze want?"

He saton thestool that Suze had just vacated. Yes, we havestools in our kitchen. They are those really high seats...you know, the ones with the miniscule backs.

"Oh, they found a house," I informed him. "On Weatherdale."

I swear he nearly fell fof the stool. Now _that_ would have been funny. Except he would have smashed his head off the cabinet and Icoudn't leave Aaron alone to drive him to the ER.

"Weatherdale?" He repeated, completely astonished. "I know Jesse earns a lot, but how can they afford a house on Weatherdale?"

"They got it cheap. Current owners wanted a quick sale." I strolled over to my beloved smoothie machine and removed the jug. "Do you want the rest of this? Hey, don't look at me like that, it's strawberry and kiwi!"

He observed the mixture for a moment or two before pulling a clean glass out of the cupboard and allowing me to fill it with smoothie. While he was preoccupied, I went about locking the house up. It was only eight pm, but we weren't expecting anymore visitors. We weren't expecting Suze, to tell the truth.

"So, Mrs. McTavish," my husband purred, his arms suddenly appearing around my waist. His breath smelt of strawberries. Maybe I should add more kiwi next time? "Is there a reason you are locking up so early?"

I smiled and dropped the keys onto the counter.

"There is now," I replied, turning on my somewhat miniscule charm. "Are you sure Aaron is asleep?"

"Yeah, I slipped him some sleeping pills," he joked. "He's freshly changed, as full as can be and sleeping like a log. He'll be out for hours."

He then proceeded to drop his lips to mine.It still surprises me when he does stuff like this, sometimes. It hardly seems five minutes since I was adoring him from afar at the Junipero Serra Mission Academy, or since our first kiss at the Winter Formal dance in our Junior year. I sometimes have to pinch myself to make sure that it isn't all some fabulous dream. Girls like me aren't supposed to get the guy they like. Girls like Kelly Prescott and Gina Augustin...heck, even girls like Suze Simon - sorry, _de Silva_-, but not girls like me. Yet here I was, married with a kid.

"Upstairs?" Adam asked, pulling back. I chewed nervously on my lower lip and nodded.

Unfortunately, there must be some higher force that so obviously does not want me to perform marital duties with my husband because, at that exact moment, baby Aaron's shrieks cut through the sexual tension like a jagged-edge blade.

"It's only eight," Adam sighed as we made our way to the stairs.

Just one night, please. _Just one night_.

* * *

**AN - It's up sooner than I thought :). Anyway, if you are reading this then THANK YOU (!) for giving this fic a chance. I am going to try hard at this one and hopefully it will become my best yet. So, please review...I need to know if people are reading and what you think of it. The sooner I am aware of problems (of which my inability to spell/hit the right keys is, sadly, an incurable one), the quicker I can fix them.**

**One thing...incase you think this chapter is pointless. The house is important. The house is very important...**

**The rating for this fic is likely to rise. Whe, is up to my readers. I am not sure about the boundry between T and M, but once it has been crossed, can you please tell me so I know to put it up?**

**For the romance lovers, there will be a bit in here, but it's not going to be a freaking romance novel.**

**I'm thinking about starting another fic...one based onThe Frighteners. I had a good idea and I'm working on doing something about it. If you don't know what The Frighteners is, then go rent it! It's one of the funniestblack comediesever made!**

**Disclaimer - Everything related to the Mediator belongs to Meg Cabot.**


	2. Home Sweet Home

**Something Wicked**

_**Chapter One - **Home Sweet Home_

The previous owners of the house had obviously put a lot of effort into the renovation. So it is a pity that instead of raising the asking price, as was intended with the renovation, they had to halve it for a quick sale. They probably spent thousands of dollars fixing the place up. And the best thing about the house? No ghosts. Not a single one. I even tried calling to any random spooks that may have been lurking in the shadows, but nothing!

I pulled the last photograph out of the box and stood it on the fireplace. That was one of the new additions, the fireplace. It was constructed using some old African mahogany-coloured wood. Of course, the fireplace was electric, so it was less of a fire hazard than it could have been.

The photograph depicted myself, CeeCee, Adam and Paul at our high-school graduation. I placed it on the end of the fireplace, a good distance away from one of my wedding photos. Then, I stood back to admire my work.

The unpacking was finally complete.

It was no mean feat, moving all of our belongings. Especially with the amount of clothes I own. I didn't even realise how mch I had until I started packing. I was so shocked by the amount that I had to give some of them away. I know I like clothes, but that was just ridiculous.

"Finished?"

I turned around to see Jesse walking through the arch that connected the living room and the kitchen. An _arch_!

"At last." I smiled and walked back towards the fireplace. "You know, I'm not too sure about this fireplace."

"Why not?" I could hear his footsteps behind me.

"I don't know." I raised a hand and ran it along the smooth, varnished surface. "I just...I could have sworn the grain was running the other way yesterday."

I traced one of the many curls in the pattern on the wood before dropping my hand back down to my side and shook my head. I was imagining it. I had to be. Wood doesn't just change its pattern overnight.

"You know what?" I said, stifling a yawn. "Forget it. I'm tired, my eyes are just playing tricks on me."

I cast one last look at the creepy fireplace before I flicked off the lights and began to climb the stairs.

'_Hah_,' I thought as I approached the landing. _'Not a single creaky step!'_

* * *

"Everything sorted now?" Rosemary, my secretary, asked as I checked my 'In' tray the next morning. 

"As sorted as it can be," I replied. Four letters in my 'In' tray and not a single one of them was remotely interesting.

I dumped them all on the end of Rosemary's desk for her to shred. No point wasting my time on junk mail. Instead, I yawned my way into my office and flopped down on the comfortable leather sofa opposite my desk. And I'm not talking about one of those 'shrink' sofas. Those belong to the psychoanalysts. Who, by the way, are almost all Freudian. Which means that you can never have a meaningful conversation about family and friends with them without some sort of psychological analysis being thrown your way at the end.

When the clock on my desk beeped for nine o'clock, I jumped up off the comfortable sofa and eased myself into the leaher chair by my desk. I pulled a fresh pad of paper out from one of my desk's many drawers and wrote the name of my first patient on the first line.

Fortunately, I haven't quite reached the 'doodling' stage yet, so all I do is note down what my patients say and their body movement and all that jazz.

"Dr. de Silva?" A voice asked. I allowed my caffeine-fuelled morning smile to adorn my face and lifted my gaze to my first patient of the day.

And suddenly my smile vanished.

"I'm on time or once. Funny huh?" They asked me. This was not happening. Not at nine o'clock in the morning. The glow of this _ex_-patient was beginning o irritate my eyes.

"Um, no," I said, leaning an elbow on my desk and pinching the bridge of my nose whilst scrunching up my eyes. "Actually, you're late."

I immediately scolded myself. I hadn't meant to say it out loud, I really hadn't.

"Sorry?" I opened my eyes and sighed.

Gordon. That was his name. Gordon Williams.

"Gordon, your appointment was cancelled," I explained. "It was cancelled because you are dead."

Gordon stared hard at me for a few seconds before looking down at his body.

"I'm...oh my goodness, I'm glowing!" He gasped. Then he looked back up at me, his eyes filled with confusion.

"But how can you see me?" He demanded, obviously without a clue as to why he was dead. I sighed. I get this all the time. Every single ghost asks me the exact same question. I'm thinking about getting the answer tatooed across my forehead.

"Gordon, I am a mediator," I told him. "It is my job to guide people like you to the afterlife, whatever that may be. You obviously have unfinished business...do you know what it is?"

Gordon looked thoughtful for a moment or two. I really don't have the time for this. I have three patients to see this morning and then I have lunch with my husband at twelve, an evaluation with my superior at one and two more patients this afternoon followed by a departmental meeting at half past four.

"Well, I think I would like to know how I died," he asked, completely bewildered. Poor soul.

"You were in a car accident," I said. "One other passenger died."

I had to tear my eyes away from Gordon's face. I could see the torment etched in every line, every wrinkle. He was only forty-four years old. His friend, who had also died, was only thirty-seven.

"Oh, no," he whispered, disbelief evident in his soft voice. "I-I'm sorry for intruding."

Then he disappeared. Just like that. Oh, he would be back. If Jesse or Paul didn't get to him first, that is. I sighed again. Why can't someonejust cut me a break.

"Hi, sorry I'm late," my patient said as she walked through my office door, smiling sweetly like she always did. I assured her that it was no problem, relieved that this patient was not glowing.

I listened intently to everything she said. Of course, I can't repeat any of it, patient confidentiality and all. Once our hour was up, I thanked her and asked her if she would like to make another appointment. That's the thing my superior and I disagree on. She thinks that I should always make another appointment for them, but I believe that it is better if the patient chooses whether or not they want to come back. It only harms them further if you force them to return every week until their problem is solved. It doesn't work that way...I need input from the patient, too. Jesse's job is far easier; check chart, fiddle with IV, tell the patient off for not taking their meds, check chart again, change bandages. At least he doesn't have to see his own shrink every month. I already know thatI have problems, alright? I don't need some college-educated bimbo to tell me that. Which is probably what most of my patients think about me, but whatever.

I told Jesse about Gordon at lunch, and do you know what he did? He laughed. _Laughed!_ Like it was the funniest thing in the world. Which it so wasn't.

"Sorry, _querida_," he apologised. "Just the thought of him walking in, thinking he had an appointment with you."

I glared at him some more. His laughter did die down a bit, but not much. We were attracting attention from the other tables. And you know hospital cafes, with the visiting relatives who complain about the food yet always insist that the crap they give the patients is 'for their own good'. A few relatives were already staring at us; the guy in doctor's scrubs with the smartly-dressed woman who were laughing at their extremely hushed conversation. Probably because most hushed conversations between doctors tended to be about patients.

"I think I need some therapy tonight," I said, picking at the Jell-O on my tray. "We need to invest in a smoothie machine."

"I'll get you one for your birthday," he joked. I pretended to laugh. I would actually like him to buy me one, but my birthday is about six months away. I can't wait that long.

He placed his fork down onto his plate and watched me rearrange my Jell-O like that guy in Close Encounters. Only he did it with mashed potato.

"Are you going to eat that?" He asked, wrinkling his nose slightly. I shook my head. It was green. That would be alright if it didn't taste like strawberries.

"Maybe I'll savesome to throw at Caroline," I said, grinning insanely at the thought of lumpy green Jell-O clinging to my superior's peroxide blonde hair. Maybe I could make it look like an accident.

"I was thinking," Jesse said, pulling my fork out of my hands and placing it safely beside my knife, "about doing something tonight. We haven't exactly had much alone time lately. Not with the move."

I smiled. It was true. We hadn't got round to christening our brand new bed yet. I was too tired to do much last night.

"Why don't we just rent a movie?" I asked. "Order in? I miss just curling up on the sofa with you. Like we did when I was a teenager."

His smile matched mine. Oh yeah, I've still got it. His hand reached across the table to touch mine and I allowed him to take my hand into his. It was so small compared to his, it made me feel vulnerable. I always did next to him. He was this six-foot-something wall of muscle, and I was this five-eight little blob of semi-toned flesh. But it didn't cause me to be frightened of him, oh no. It comforted me in a way that nothing else ever had.

"Curling up on the sofa, smelling like curry it is, then," he replied. "Though can we please choose something with ugly actors in? I don't want you to be drooling over some guy you will never meet when I am right next to you."

I laughed. Yeah. The last film we watched together was Speed. Keanu Reeves. Enough said.

But to be truthful, I had only done it to make him jealous.

"I'll be home at eight."

* * *

Gordon did not return that day. Not that I had expected him to. Also, I still have my job so I obviousy hadn't pissed Caroline off too much. Not only that, but I had sucessfully chosen a DVD that Jesse will have no problem with us watching. V For Vendetta. I saw it at the cinema, but I went with CeeCee and Jesse hasn't seen it yet. Plus, Hugo Weaving and Stephen Rea are too old for me. 

I had also picked up a Chicken Chow Mein and Egg Foo Yung for us. The only thing missing now is Jesse.

I paced the living room floor, becoming frustrated despite the fact that it was only quarter to eight. He wasn't due home for another fifteen minutes. So, I began to rearrange stuff, like I always do when I am bored. It isn't Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, it's just a habit.

I carefully adjusted the photo frames on the fireplace so that they were closer to the centre. Then I had to dispose of the flower I had placed inbetween them. It had wilted overnight, despite the fact that I had watered it as soon as I had placed it where it was. I didn't dwell on this. I could get another plant.

I turned my back to the fireplace and the living room as I walked towards the kitchen, dead flower in hand.

I was just about to step through the arch when I heard a strange noise behind me. I wish that I could describe what it was, but I can't. The closest description I can think of is a cracking noise. So, I spun around.

The porcelain plant pot smashed into a dozen pieces as it hit the floor, the soil spreading out across the carpet. It would probaby stain.

But I didn't care. My eyes were glued to the fireplace. I couldn't even scream, which was what I wanted to do. A single black line crept along the wall, starting behind the fireplace. And when I say crept, I mean _crept_. It was actually moving. Slithering, actually. Then there was another, and another. Three, four, five, _six_ tendrils of thick, black _something_ oozed up the wall. I instinctively took a step back, but the tendrils continued to slither. The temperature in the room must have dropped two or three degrees, because suddenly I was shivering. My arms were covered with goosebumps and it had to be because of the cold. It had to!

Then there was the noise. A groaning sound, as if the fireplace - and the whole wall - was being pulled apart by ths mysterious substance.

I was tempted to cover my ears as an ear-splittingscream tore through the tense atmosphere. It took me at least ten seconds to realise that I was the one producing the scream.

Suddenly I felt strong arms around me, and my face was suddenly smashed into something hard.

"_Querida_, what is it? What is it?" I felt tears come to my eyes. I was so glad to hear that voice. I lifted my own arms up and wrapped them around my husband and began to sob freely into his shirt.

"Shh," he whispered into my hair. "It's alright, it's alright. What happened?"

I managed to tear myself away from him and turn towards the fireplace.

The black stuff was gone. It was like it was never even there.

I attempted to move over to the fireplace to investigate further, but Jesse wouldn't let go of me. He kept asking, over and over again, what had happened.

But how was I supposed to know? Never, in my twenty-two years of mediating, have I ever, _ever_, seen anything like that before.

And that's what terrified me.

* * *

**AN - Review please :)**


	3. Takeover

**Something Wicked**

_**Chapter Two - **Takeover_

Sleep was not an option that night. Oh, we watched the film all right, (great film, too) and we had a hell of a lot of fun after, but the thing with the fireplace freaked me out too much.

Jesse thinks I imagined it all, but he would. He said that it was impossible. And this is coming from a guy who can not only see ghosts, but actually _was_ one for a whole century and a half. _I'm_ the psychiatrist here! _I'm_ supposed to be the skeptical one!

I envied Jesse right then, sleeping so peacefully beside me. He hadn't witnesed what I had. He didn't have images of that..._whatever it was_...etched into his brain.

I pressed my head back into the pillow and sighed. Maybe I should just assume that Jesse is right for now. I was tired before, chances are that I _was _just imagining it. Jesse must have entered the house while it was happening if he got to me that quickly and he swore that he didn't see anything. He wouldn't lie, not about something like that.

I fell asleep eventually, assuring myself that it was nothing.

But if it_ was_ nothing, then why didn't I believe myself?

* * *

"I take it you didn't get much sleep last night," Jesse said, laughing at my failed attempts to stifle my incessant yawns. I attempted to smile in response, but another yawn prevented me from doing so. 

He laughed at me again and lowered his head so that he could press his lips against mine. I was worried that I would yawn into this kiss (not very attractive), but his lips have this muting effect on my body. I forgot that I was tired and that I was dying for something to eat and wrapped my arms around his neck.

I just want to take this opportunity to give a one-fingered salute to those nuts who say that marriage takes the magic out of relationships. Jesse and I have been married for six years (_six_ years!) and we still drive each other crazy. And I don't mean in the _'honey-what-are-you-doing-with-that-knife?'_ kind of way.

"Hey," I laughed, pulling away. "Slow down." He smiled his trademark heart-melting smile and apologised.

"You are just so beautiful," he purred.

Uh-oh. That was it. Everytime he said that, my insides turned to mush and my resolve weakened. To a girl who spent most of her teenage years with low self-esteem, those words are deadly.

I pulled him back into me and kissed him all over again. I allowed my fingers to explore the area beneath his shirt; territory I knew well. Damn, why does he have to feel _so_ good? His rough hands rubbed against the denim of my jeans until they gripped my thighs and lifted me up onto the kitchen counter. Now this is one place I have never done it before.

His hand began to explore everything; my back, my hair, the area beneath _my_ shirt. He sure knew how to drive my crazy. I wrapped my legs around his lean body and dragged him closer to me. I love the way he feels against me; all muscle against my feminine curves.

He chose that moment to tear his lips from my own and begin an assault on my neck. I moaned freely to show him how good he was making me feel. I think he enjoys hearing my appreciation as much as I enjoy giving it. I like the way that he momentarily loses concentration everytime he hears my feedback. I am such a lucky girl to have a husband who believes in giving as much as - if not more than - getting. But I guess that's what I get for marrying a nineteenth-century gentleman.

I had to brace myself by placing my hands on the counter as I leaned back to allow him access to the parts of me that were aching to be kissed.

That was when I felt it.

Oh, no, not _that_! We hadn't went _that_ far yet.

What I felt was something gooey on the counter. I placed my hand right in it. At first I thought that it was marmalade or something, but when I shook my hand to get it off it didn't budge. The skin beneath this substance began to tingle and I began to feel weak. It started to pulsate, which was when I realised that something was wrong.

I twisted my head towards my hand to see just what exactly was stuck to it. Really, I should have asked Jesse. If I had done that, I would not have embarassed myself by screaming so loudly.

A thick, black, treacle-like substance clung to my hand and thin strips connected it to the smallest gap in the kitchen wall. When I moved my hand, the strips contracted, like elastic. When I screamed, the strips recoiled and dragged the substance back into the wall. So by the time Jesse's eyes followed my gaze it was already gone.

"What is it?" He asked, anxious and unnerved. I ignored him and wrapped my arms around him, desperate for some form of comfort.

"_Querida_, tell me what it is," he begged, obviously concerned about me.

I pushed him back and jumped down onto the kitchen floor. My knees buckled as I hit the hard tiles and I fell onto my backside. I didn't even attempt to stand up.

"Did you see that?" I asked him, despite knowing that he hadn't. "Did you see-?"

He grasped my hands and looked at me desperately.

"See what?" He asked. "Susannah, I-" He broke off as he looked at my hands, turning one of them over so that it was palm-up. I followed his gaze and gasped when I saw a small red blemish on the skin just beneath my thumb. It looked like weak hickey. There really is no other way to describe it. Yet as we looked at it, the mark began to fade until my skin was back to normal.

Jesse looked at me questiongly. I shook my head as if to say it was nothing but he was not convinced. Like I expected him to be.

I did not want him to question me further so I left, making my way up the stairs and curling up on my bed. It's funny how much comfort a bed can provide. I don't know why I feel safe in it, I just do.

Of course, I fully expected Jesse to follow me. It just wasn't like him to abandon someone in need.

He appeared a few minutes later, silently slipping into the room. I guess that he stood there watching me, trying to figure out what to say, because he did not move for a few minutes. Neither did I. Eventually he climbed onto the bed behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"_Querida_, why won't you talk to me?" He asked. His voice sounded pained and, of course, this tugged on my heartstrings. He gets really frustrated when I shut him out.

"Because I think I'm going crazy," I muttered. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the heat pouring from my husband. This usually calmed me down. "Please tell me that you saw that mark on my hand..."

I felt his warm breath against the back of my neck as he sighed. He propped his right arm up on its elbow just behind my head and began to stroke my hair. When he spoke, I realised that his lips were right next to my ear.

"I saw something," he admitted. "But you probably just put your hand on something, it is easily done."

Angry, I pushed him away and sat upright, turning my back to him. He sighed, no doubt at my sudden childish attitude.

"Susannah." Oh, boy, he's getting angry. Not only did he use my name, - as opposed to _'querida'_ - but his voice became hard and tenacious. "I don't know what you are getting so wound up about. But you have been acting very strangely ever since we moved in. Need I remind you that it was _you_ who wanted this house, not me. If you are having second thoughts, there is nothing either of us can do about it!"

Usually, I would have snapped at him right then. But I guess that being scared out of your wits screws up the way your brain works, because I started to cry. And I'm not talking about those little sniffles, oh no...I'm talking about those _huge_ gut-wrenching sobs that make you want to fall to your knees.

"Oh, _querida_," Jesse said, his voice filled with regret. "I'm sorry I yelled at you." I felt his arms around me again and the only thing I could think of to do was to kiss him hard. So I did. He was a little taken aback, but he responded once he was over the initial shock.

I knew, as soon as our lips met, that I needed him. I needed him to be there for me...in every way. Maybe he was right...in a way. Maybe I was stressed about the move and I was simply hallucinating as my mind created scenearios where it was alright for me to feel uneasy. Kind of like a waking dream. Hey, it's happened before...just not to me. And I know I am not a lunatic; I have the psychiatric reports to prove it.

So I chose to focus on something else...namely Jesse's incredible body. Of course, for that to happen, the damn shirt that covered it had to go. Which it did. I groaned and fell back onto the bed as my fingers felt the deep ridges of muscles on his abdomen, the thin hair that covered them gently caressing my fingertips. Thank God he hasn't given up the gym. _My_ shirt was the next to go, followed closely by both of our jeans.

We had to pause while we shifted; we lay across the bed sideways, and Jesse is too tall to be...um...comfortable like that. I giggled as we both shifted and his fingers flitted across my stomach.

"Hey!" I complained. It is difficult to complain when you can't stop giggling. "That tickles." He paused as a look of amusement became him. I could practically see the light bulb above his head.

He smiled the most evil smile I have ever seen those lips twist into before dropping them - his lips, of course - to my bare stomach.

Oh, _wow_.

What was amazing was that I could no longer remember what the hell had happened in the kitchen.

I twitched unconfortably as his hands slid up my thighs. I moved my hands down into his hair, moving onto his arms as he rid me of my underwear and came back up to finish our kissing. I revelled in the feel of his hard muscles against me. I felt pleasure in the fact that the muscular arms that caged me existed only to protect me and I did not care that I did not understand the Spanish words he was murmuring, for I knew that they were meant for my ears only.

"Please," I begged him, sick of waiting. "I love you. I need you."

And he listened to me.

My adoration for him grew as he told me how much he loved me between kisses. Most of the time he told me in Spanish, but I have begun to understand which words mean "I love you"...and other phrases to that effect.

When we lay in each others arms afterwards, slightly out of breath, I thought about how lucky I was. Really. If you had asked me seven years ago if I thought my life would turn out like this, I would have knocked your lights out. But here I am...happy...blissfully happy.

"I will always be here for you...no matter what," Jesse whispered as I pretended to sleep. "Remember that."

If I had known then what lay ahead, I would have begged him to move back into our old place. I would have left the country if I had to. But how was I to know that unstoppable events had just been put in motion.

_How was I to know?_

**AN - Heh, sorry about that last paragraph...I couldn't think of a better way to finish off the chapter. Also, I apologise for the spelling and grammar mistakes (if there are any, which is most likely the case) because it is 2am and my mental spellcheck is a bit off at the moment.**

**And I am thinking about putting the rating up for this very soon...I'm probably going to get a bit heavy on the romance before the violence kicks in, so... Yeah, I gave in...but Cursed is going all Angsty at the moment and No Rest For The Wicked will be fairly romance-less for a while and I need an outlet for my bunged-up romance valve (sounded weird, but 2am people:)). I decided to make this an official sequel to Trials...hence mentioning it in the summary...I've always wanted to do a trilogy :).**

**Thank you once again to my reviewers :) Now go review again! I'm thinking about adding some more characters soon (I just had an idea) and I may need some names...so...yup, cameos. And I'm not bribing you ;). And I will be responding to reviews in the chapter in a few chapters time...yup, 2am talk again...**

**Until next time...**


	4. Losing Faith

**Something Wicked**

_**Chapter Three -** Losing Faith_

**CeeCee's POV**

Strange things are happening. Very strange things. First, Adam and I actually spend time together without a baby wailing or my boss pushing a new assignment on me. Then, Suze and Jesse skip our usual Friday-night hook up, which has never happened...ever. The icing on the cake was the knock at the door. At eight am. On a Sunday. Not only that, but it was Jesse de Silva. He sometimes works long hours during the week, so he basically spends his weekends either sleeping or spoiling his wife.

"Is this a bad time?" He asked, taking in my appearance. I instantly regretted shoving my feet into my cow slippers...which were shaped like an actual cow. They were a birthday present from Suze...as a joke, of course.

"No, no, not at all," I assured him, counting down the seconds until I reached the espresso machine.

He followed me into the kitchen and politely declined my offer of an espresso. Good...more for me.

"Have you noticed Susannah acting...strangely over the past few days?" he asked. I laughed. Suze is always strange.

"No more than usual," I replied. "Though she did seem more withdrawn than usual when I spoke to her yesterday. Why?"

Jesse sighed and lowered himself onto one of the stools.

"She has been claiming to see...things around our house," he told me. "When I arrived home on Friday, she was in an awful state. She claimed that she saw something coming out of the fireplace. And just yesterday she believed that something was attached to her hand."

I rolled my eyes and took a large gulp of espresso. It is amazing how quickly this stuff works.

"Maybe it is just another ghost," I suggested. I was amazed that he had not come to this conclusion himself.

Jesse shook his head and ran one of his hands through his rather nice black hair. I could tell that this was killing him. He cares deeply about Suze, we all do. I know how much it pains him when he can't help her. He seems to think that his sole purpose is to protect her.

"No," he stated. "If it was a ghost, I would have seen it, too. When I found her screaming at the fireplace, I saw nothing. I-I think that she is hallucinating. I'm scared, CeeCee, because I have no idea what is happening to her! I have never felt so helpless."

I stared at him helplessly. I honestly didn't know what to say or do...do I hug him? Do I assure him that everything would be fine?

I settled for sitting on the stool next to him and placing my free hand on his arm.

"Have you not tried talking to her?" I asked, setting my cup down on the table. "Maybe something is bothering her and that is why she is hallucinating? She has had a pretty traumatic life. Maybe everything is catching up with her."

"What am I supposed to do, then?" He asked. The helplessness in his voice really got to me. I have never seen him like this before. Jesse has always been the strong one, the one you could depend on in an emergency because he never fell apart. Yet here he was, fallling to pieces in my kitchen...over a girl...

"I can't take her to a shrink," he continued, "and _I _can't help her, so what the hell can I do?"

I moved my hand up to his shoulder and squeezed it gently, trying not to notice the muscles I could feel beneath his shirt.

"You could..." I paused while I thought carefully about how I would say this. "You could ask Paul. He still has all of his grandfather's papers, right? Maybe it's a shifter thing. I hear Paul is coming to town soon and I am sure that he will be more than willing to help her."

Jesse turned to me and raised an eyebrow. Of course, the guys are now friends, but some things are hard to forget.

"It may be your only option," I pointed out.

-+-

**Suze's POV**

I'm not neurotic, alright? I am a perfectly normal adult. I just like cleaning. That is why the kitchen bench is spotless, as is the fireplace. And do you know what? I don't even care that the second plant that I placed on the fireplace wilted. I don't. And I am not, I repeat, _not_ hallucinating because I am nervous about moving in. If I was nervous, don't you think that I would hallucinate fluffy bunnies (except the one in the Duracell adverts...that guy is just creepy) and not gelatinous goo seeping out of my walls? Yeah, instead of Fantasia, I hallucinate The Amityville Horror.

I know that Jesse thinks that I am crazy. He won't admit it, but the way that he looks at me says everything.

I arrived at the clinic deliberately early that day. I couldn't take the way he was tip-toeing around me. Somehow the prospect of dealing with my patients was not as terrifying as it usually was. Until, of course, my dear old friend Gordon turned up.

"I think I know how you can help me," he said, without so much as a 'hello'.

"Good morning, Gordon," I greeted, smiling cheerfully. At least one of us was being polite.

Gordon just looked at me like I was crazy. I can't say that I blame him; I looked looked like a freight train had hit me. My hair was untameable today, the bags under my eyes were noticable despite how much make-up I applied to disguise them and I was white as a sheet. I swear I am coming down with something, my stomach hasn't felt right for a few days now.

"It's my friend," he muttered, shaking slightly. He reminded me a lot of the fake Henry Gale from Lost. The resemblance was so striking that it was creepy. "His name is Philip. He has gone...mad."

He paused as he lowered himself onto the couch and his shaking seemed to stop.

"I found him and I told him that he was dead and he went...mad," he continued. "He worked at a meat processing factory way out in the middle of nowhere and he returned there and is causing all sorts of trouble. One man is in hospital because of him. He always was a bit unstable and it was always my job to look after him. If I can get him to move on, then I will, too. You have to talk to him."

He then looked up at me with huge, puppy dog eyes. I hate it when they do that. Especially when they want me to do something that is dangerous, which talking to a ghost haunting a meat processing factory is. I did not want to know what happened to the worker who was hospitalised.

"Gordon," I said, calmly. "All you need to do is talk to him. You knew him, he should listen to you. What makes you think that he will listen to a girl he has only just met?"

The shaking started again. I began to wonder if this Philip was the 'friend' Gordon told me about in our sessions, the one who spent three years in a psychiatric ward. I honestly don't think that I can handle a violent ghost on top of everything that was going on with the house.

"I have _tried_ to talk to him!" Gordon yelled. "But he pays no attention to me! He never has. Please, just talk to him before anyone else gets hurt."

I sighed and glanced at my schedule for the day. My last appointment was at noon. I had a meeting with my supervisor (a.k.a. my personal shrink) at three, but I honestly did not expect this _talk_ to last for two hours.

"I will go this afternoon," I told the ghost, smiling when he sighed in relief. I grabbed my booklet of Post-It notes and jotted down the location of the factory. I thanked a higher force that I had chosen to wear a trouser suit today. If things got violent, I was ready to kick ass.

Gordon faded after thanking me and as he dematerialised, I shouted "you owe me!"

The rest of the morning was pretty uneventful. My patients came and went, one of them broke down crying and I spent half of our hour trying to cheer her up and another was transferred to a specialist. Eventually one o' clock came and I ran over to the main hospital to grab a sandwich to eat in the car. And I had that stupid agreement with Jesse.

What agreement? Oh, after several bad concussions and an afternoon spent locked in a car trunk, Jesse told me that the only reason he would allow me to mediate on my own was if I told someone where I would be. I know that it was for my own protection, but it was annoying sometimes. Like now, when Jesse was too busy to listen to me.

"So I'm going out for a while and-" I started, but he butted in again, hastily scribbling something onto a clipboard.

"Susannah, I haven't got time to talk," he told me, pushing the clipboard toward another doctor. "Four doctors called in sick today so I've got a heavy workload."

"But, Jesse!" I protested.

"Susannah, I _haven't_ got time!" He half-yelled before running off as another gurney passed us.

Somehow I managed to surpress the frustrated scream I could feel building up inside of me.

I even tried to ring CeeCee as I walked towards my car, but the receptionist at the Pine Cone said that she was out researching some story. Did some higher force not want anyone to know where I was?

I sighed as I thanked the receptionist and hung up, knowing that the only person left to call was never home during the day and was never at his desk at the office.

"'Hey, you've reached Adam and CeeCee. Obviously we're not here so leave a message and we'll get back to you if we can be bothered.' 'Adam!' 'What?' 'I can't believe you! You are such a-'_ beep_."

"Hey," I laughed. "You guys really should change that message. Anyway, Adam, I'm going to help a...um...someone. It's just a talking job, but if something does go wrong, I will be at..." I stated the address of the factory and thanked him before hanging up. He probably wouldn't get it, but it will get Jesse off my back.

It didn't take me long to find the factory, despite it being very much out of the way. It was basically a huge, square building with a lot of vans in the parking lot. As I casually walked through the entrance, three men carried a pig carcass past me. I retched before I could take my eyes away from it. It was disgusting. I actually felt sorry for the poor animals. Other workers were carring packs of diced meat to the vans and some were just standing around, laughing at each other's jokes. This made it extremely easy for me to look around. No-one paid me any attention. They probably thought that I was an inspector or something.

I dodged between the carcasses that were strung up from metal pipes above my head as a loud bell rang out. Judging by the pieces of conversation I overheard, that bell signalled the start of the worker's lunch hour. Great...this will make things much easier.

The smell inside the factory was almost overpowering. I would have to Febreeze my suit before my meeting with my supervisor otherwise she would become suspicious. A quick glance at the clock told me that I only had forty-five minutes until our meeting. I needed to hurry.

"A girl?" A voice behind me asked, obviously speaking to itself. "I never knew that girls worked in places like this."

I smiled. They always find me.

"Actually, I am a _woman_," I pointed out. "And you must be Philip?"

I turned around to face him. He looked just like I had expected him to; short, messy brown hair, confused grey eyes, large nose. The only thing that shocked me about him was his muscles. Did this guy work out with Arnold Schwarzenegger? OK, so he wasn't _that_ buff. His body was similar to The Rock's...though he still looked as though The Rock could kick his ass all the way to Antarctica. I found this slightly intimidating. I'm not scrawny, but I'm no match for muscles. Jesse could pin me down no problem, and so could Paul, as I had discovered from experience. But whatever, as long as I could get within kicking distance of his balls I was good.

"Wait-are you the mediator?" He asked. "You're that chick Gordon was telling me about!"

I rolled my eyes. What the hell was Gordon doing, hanging around with an asshole like this? Their personalities were completely different. And Gordon had never been commited.

"My name," I said through gritted teeth, "is Suze. If you want an answer, I would suggest calling me that. And we need to talk." I set myself down on a nearby crate in an attempt to look professional. "I hear that you have been a bit of a problem around here. Just tell me what your unfinished business is and I can help you."

Philip snorted. It was terrifying when he snorted. The muscles in his arms twitched slightly and I almost fell backwards off the crate.

"I am not supposed to be dead," he replied, laughing slightly. "And do you know what? I have found out that my ex-colleagues never even liked me! Have you even heard what they are saying about me? _They_ deserve to die!"

Oh, great. Another Craig Jankow. At least Craig was something to look at, though. I didn't feel sorry for this guy in a single way. At least Craig showed remorse for what he did...this guy just didn't care.

"Philip, we have to make this quick," I explained. "I have just over half an hour to get back to my office and I am _not _looking forward to my appointment with my supervisor. On top of all that I appear to be developing a stomach bug, I did not sleep last night and I think I have PMS. It would be in _your _best interests if you just let go of your anger and _moved on_."

To my surprise, he did not laugh nor did he agree with me and move on. Instead, he pursed his lips and glared at me in an extremely hostile manner.

"You want to get rid of me, too!" He yelled. "I don't believe it! You are going to pay for this."

OK, so I forgot about making fun of ex-psych patients. Especially ones with super powers...so to speak.

Without even flinching, the dead cow that was strung up by its two back legs above my head suddenly fell. Luckily, I jumped down off the crate just in time. As the cow landed where I had been sat, the crate was crushed beneath its weight and packets of diced chicken breast fell out into the floor.

Before I had a chance to recover, a hand grabbed my shoulder and slammed me against another crate. When I opened my eyes a few seconds later, Philip was nowhere to be seen. I pulled myself to my feet and dusted myself off, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket as I did so.

I dialled Jesse's cell, but of course, it cut straight into voicemail.

"Look, Jesse, I don't care if you are busy!" I yelled into my cell. "I tried to explain to you earlier that I had some ghost work to do and it has got a little out of hand. I swear, this guy is like Juggernaught on drugs. If you get this message, get your ass down here and help me out. I mean-"

I screamed as something slammed into the wall next to me, sending plaster raining down on me. I probably looked about as old as Father Dominic now.

I closed my cell and shoved it back into my pocket as Philip took another swing at me with the crowbar he had found.

"Will you stop trying to kill me!" I yelled. I tried to let go of my fear and embrace the hormones that were causing my PMS. Because everyone knows that a woman with PMS is more dangerous than a man with a crowbar.

I guess that my theory proved to be true because the foot I sent into his stomach caught him completely off guard and he dropped the crowbar. I was glad that I wore heels today. Contrary to what many people believe, fighting in heels is better than fighting in flat shoes. There is nothing worse than the three-inch heel of a stiletto between your ribs.

I picked up the crowbar that he had dropped and swung it at his head. The crunch that it made as it connected with his skull was extremely satisfying. Ghostly blood sprayed onto my hands and he collapsed onto the floor.

"Are you going to move on now?" I asked, breathing heavily and brandishing the crowbar.

"Not a chance!" He yelled and launched himself at me.

The crowbar flew from my hand and landed noisily about four yards out of my reach. But I would not have been able to grab it even if it was right next to me because of the excruciating pain in my chest. I was too out of it to see the fist that he sent right into my face. Fortunately, this fist snapped me back to reality and I was able to knee him in a very painful place and scramble into a white room.

The sudden chill that hit me when I entered this room caused me to realise that it was one of those huge, industrial freezers. It was completely empty with only one, empty hook hanging from the ceiling. I ducked behind this hook when Philip charged at me again. He seemed to be slightly dazed and I took this opportunity to grab one of his arms and think of the shadowland.

He cried out in protest when he realised what I was doing. There was an almighty bang before we arrived in the foggy hallway, but I ignored it. I had to use all of my available strength to hold on to Philip. I released him as soon as we materialised fully in the shadowland and then shifted back down to the factory. He lunged at me as I shifted, but he just fell right through me.

When I opened my eyes, I discovered that I was on the floor...thank god my tongue hadn't stuck to the floor...that would have been highly embarassing.

My hands burned painfully as I pushed myself up, but that was expected. After all, I _was_ in a freezer.

I brushed myself off, realising that the only way I could get my suit clean was to take it to the dry cleaners. According to my watch, it ws two-fifty. I did not have time to get changed. It took me twenty minutes to drive to the clinic from here, so I was going to be late to my appointment anyway. I am going to be in serious trouble.

But when I turned to exit the freezer, I realised just how much trouble I was in. I also realised what the bang as I shifted was. It was Philip's last-chance attempt to hurt me...to _kill _me even. The door...my only way out of the freezer.

It was closed.

**AN - The Gordon bit wasn't supposed to come until later, but I'm moving the story along quicker than I had planned...I have some new ideas :).**

**Will Suze get out? Will Adam and/or Jesse get her messages? Will anyone realise that she is missing? I don't know... :)**

**Thank you to my reviewers and my readers...you guys keep me writing. So go review! I am thinking about putting one of my fics on hiatus until I have things in my life sorted out because juggling three fics is going to prove difficult in the next few weeks...so far it is No Rest For The Wicked because it has the lowest review-to-hits ratio. Just a heads up for those who read it.**

**Disclaimer - Everything related to the Mediator belongs to Meg Cabot.**


	5. Trapped

**Something Wicked**

_**Chapter Four - **Trapped_

**Adam's POV**

It figures. I just _had_ to forget something. I wouldn't be Adam McTavish if I had remembered everything.

I shoved my key into the lock on the front door, grumbling about my forgetfullness the whole time.

I work as a graphic designer for a marketing firm...strange, huh? When I was a teenager, I never thought that I would have an actual job. I was always so lazy. In my rush to leave the house, I had left my portfolio, which just happened to contain most of my work, on the kitchen table. I can't believe it...I was supposed to finish early today!

I slammed the door shut and threw my coat onto one of the kitchen stools as I reached for the portfolio. I was too tired for all this. Would they notice if I didn't go back?

When I passed the living room on my way out of the house, I noticed a light on our answer phone flashing. Oh, well...whatever will keep me from the office.

"You have three new messages." The machine told me. Yeah. yeah, whatever, just get on with it.

"Hey, Adam, it's your mother..."

I hit the 'delete' button. She never says anything worth hearing. She is always criticising me. But I guess that is what mothers are for.

"Hey." It was Suze. "You guys really should change that message. Anyway, Adam, I'm going to help a...um...someone. It's just a talking job, but if something does go wrong, I will be at..." She gave the address of a meat processing factory. Why does she even bother? Most of the ghosts she helps aren't even grateful. She doesn't have time to mediate now that she has a life. Not that she never had a life, but she is married now...if you get my drift.

"Hey, loser." I rolled my eyes. CeeCee. "Listen, my receptionist told me that Suze called a couple of hours ago, claiming that it was urgent. I tried calling her office, but they don't know where she is. I couldn't get ahold of Jesse, so do you think you could look for her? I'm starting to get worried."

My finger hovered above the delete button. I was literally frozen to the spot. According to the robotic voice, CeeCee's message had been left about ten minutes ago...two hours after Suze's. Something wasn't right here.

I grabbed my coat, forgot about my portfolio and jumped into my car. Suze was in trouble, I just knew it. And I was the only one who knew where she was.

-+-

**Suze's POV**

How do I end up in these situations? I mean, I am careful now...I _always_ have a plan before I go after a ghost. Unfortunately, becoming locked in an industrial freezer was something I failed to forsee.

I walked up to the large door and hammered on it until I was too weak to continue. It was futile; all of the workers were at lunch. There was no one out there to hear me.

Feeling completely helpless, I slid down one of the smooth walls, ignoring the fact that they were freezing. The whole room was freezing.

"Please turn your phone on," I begged Jesse, even though he was about seventeen miles away. "Please help me."

I must have been sitting there for at least half an hour before the pain set in. It began as a tingling sensation in my exremities before my whole body tingled and my lungs burned with every breath. I could no longer feel my fingers and I am pretty sure that my toes had dropped off. Every tear that I shed froze halfway down my cheek.

It became obvious that Jesse was not coming.

I never knew that I would die like this. I wanted to die in my sleep at a ripe old age, but if I was to perish at the hands of a ghost I somehow imagined a gloriously violent death. Like a crowbar to the head or a broken neck...not locked in a freaking freezer! I am telling you, this is _so_ not how I pictured my death...slow and painful.

The strange thing was that all I could think was "I hope that when they find me, my tongue hasn't stuck to the floor or anything. That would be embarassing".

I closed my eyes as I felt myself losing conciousness. The pain was becoming unbearable. I was so cold that I was beginning to burn. The palms of my hands were on fire. Why wouldn't Jesse listen to me? Why did CeeCee have to be out? Why did Adam have to work?

I heard a scraping noise coming from somewhere to my right, but my brain did not register it. It seemed so far away...would I just pass out already?

"Oh, my God! Suze!" I heard someone yell. The voice sounded familiar, but I could not picture the face of its owner.

I felt arms around me, hands gripping me in places that hurt, and suddenly I was floating. A few minutes later, I was placed on something hard, though it wasn't cold. Then again, I guess anything would feel warm after forty-five minutes in a freezer.

"Suze, please say something!" the voice begged. The same arms that had carried me from the freezer wrapped around me, holding my body close to a source of overwhelming heat. Warm hands rubbed my cheeks in an attempt to chase the cold away, but it made no difference. As soon as those hands disappeared, I became cold again.

"Shit! I've got to get you to a hospital," the voice said. I closed my eyes and smiled. A hospital...yeah, that sounded good.

The arms lifted me up again and I could hear voices around us as I was carried out of the building and placed gently onto something soft. There was a bang and then a blanket was placed over me. I attempted to pull it up but my fingers weren't working properly. They twitched slightly, but they just would not grip the soft material.

The voice talked to me constantly as whatever I was lying on vibrated slightly beneath me. It felt like...wait, were we moving?

"You should not have went on your own," the voice scolded me. "What the hell were you thinking?"

What on earth was he talking about? Yes, _he_. The voice was distinctly masculine.

It wasn't long before I zoned out, the pain becoming too much again.

-+-

**Jesse's POV**

I collapsed in the staff room, exhausted. I have never worked so hard in my life, not even when I worked on my family's ranch. I had not even stopped for lunch.

Dr. Lowe, my superior, chuckled at my exhaustion.

"Go home," he told me. "You have done enough today. More than enough, in fact. It's amazing that you are still concious."

I laughed. He did have a point. It only took me two minutes to change out of my scrubs and into my normal clothes and another two to slam my locker door shut. I really need to speak to someone about that.

As I closed my locker door for the final time, I caught a glimpse of a photograph of Susannah and myself taped onto the back of the door. A pang of guilt hit me as I realised how I acted towards her earlier. She has not been herself lately. She seemed frustrated when she sought me out earlier...maybe she just needed to talk. And I ignored her. What if she had really needed me? If I was lucky, she would still be at the clinic.

As I stepped out of the staff locker room, I almost ran into Susannah's supervisor. I had to grab her arm to prevent her from falling.

"Oh, it's alright," she gasped when I apologised. "I was actually looking for you. Susannah didn't turn up for her appointment and her receptionist does not know where she is. I was wondering if she has said anything to you? She isn't answering her cell."

I looked at her in confusion. Surely she was not speaking the truth? Susannah never missed anything to do with work. I told her supervisor that I had no idea where she was and pulled out my cell. She never went anywhere without telling someone.

My fingers shook as I turned it on and discovered that I had a new voicemail.

Hoping that it was from Susannah, and that she was safe, I held my phone to my ear.

"Look, Jesse, I don't care if you are busy!" I breathed a sigh of relief. She was alright, thank God. "I tried to explain to you earlier that I had some ghost work to do and it has got a little out of hand. I swear, this guy is like Juggernaught on drugs. If you get this message, get your ass down here and help me out. I mean-"

There was an almighty bang then...she screamed. Never before has a sound injected so much terror into me. The message ended, but I continued to hold the phone to my ear. She was in danger. She was in danger because I had refused to listen to her. All it would have taken was to spare ten seconds while she told me where she was going. She could be dead now for all I know.

It was at that moment, just as I prepared to call her back, that the doors at the end of the corridor burst open and several nurses wheeled a gurney down the hall, shouting things to each other and the surrounding doctors. I could not make out what they were yelling; I was still recovering from Susannah's message.

When I saw Adam running beside the gurney, holding the hand of the person lying on it, I realised that something was terribly wrong. When he saw me his eyes darkened and he bit his bottom lip. That was when my eyes fell to the patient.

And suddenly I couldn't see.

My senses swam and my hands shot out to grip the doorway so that I did not fall to my knees. It was Susannah, and she looked...dead. Her eyes were half-lidded, staring at nothing in particular and she was as pale as a corpse. Her hair was coated with white flakes of frost which melted before my eyes.

"Susannah," I gasped as the gurney wheeled past me. One of the nurses met my eyes and shouted something to me.

"Dr. de Silva, we need you," she shouted. "Dr. Anderson just left and we're short today."

Her words seemed to bring me back down to earth. I threw my coat back into the locker room and ran after the gurney, shouting instructions at the nurses as we wheeled her into one of the emergency rooms.

I reached for a lab coat once I was inside the room, since I was wearing my normal clothes and grabbed equipment from the shelves.

"What happened?" I asked Adam, who was shaking uncontrollably. He did not answer at first, so I yelled the question again and he answered me in a voice so quiet and so fast that I had trouble understanding him.

"I...I found her in one of those...those big freezers," he told me. "The big industrial ones they use for meat storage. She was locked in, and I don't know for how long."

I swore under my breath and reached for one of her hands. She was stone cold. Her lips were slightly parted and tinted purple, which was never a good sign.

"_Querida_," I spoke, my voice as soft as I could make it given the circumstances. "_Querida_, can you hear me?"

She opened her eyes further and I could see the recognition in them. She smiled and attempted to raise a hand to touch me but she was shaking so badly that she couldn't quite manage it.

"I know you," she muttered, slurring her words. "Jesse." I swore not to let my emotions get the better of me. I did not want my judgement to be impaired when her life was at risk.

One of the nurses unbuttoned Susannah's shirt and I placed a hand on her stomach. It was just as cold as the rest of her. On top of that, she was slurring her words, showed signs of amnesia, she was shivering and obviously confused and, according to the reading the nurse took, had hypotension.

"Subacute hypothermia," I told the nurses and the doctor who had just joined us. "Most likely stage two. Get some blankets and set up an IV, and _don't _jostle her. Her heartbeat is regular, let's see if we can keep it that way."

I shook my head and felt Susannah's hand wrap around my own. She looked up at me with her beautiful emerald eyes and I could see that she was scared.

"What is happening?" she asked, her words still slurred although her speech _was_ improving. That was a good sign.

"Ssh," I told her, smiling down at her in what I hoped was a loving way. "Don't move. You're going to be alright, I promise."

She smiled back at me before closing her eyes. I told her that she needed to stay awake and she squeezed my hand feebly to prove that she was not asleep.

"Dr. de Silva," one of the nurses said, causing me to tear my eyes away from Susannah. "Do you know her?"

I turned back to look at Susannah as the other doctor set up an IV.

"Yes," I told her, smiling. "She's my wife."

-+-

**Suze's POV**

Moving was extremely painful, yet I still tried to. Move, that is. When hands grabbed me and genlty lifted me onto something warm, a name suddenly popped into my head.

"Adam," I gasped, my throat feeling strangely restriced. A warm hand wrapped around mine and a soothing voice assured me that I would be fine as long as I stayed awake and did not move.

The voice sounded nice enough and I was pretty sure that this guy was my friend, so I chose to listen to him. But staying awake was harder than it seemed. Sleep promised a pain-free, dark world whereas remaining awake promised nothing but pain and voices yelling at each other along with a blinding white light. I kept my eyes half open, afraid that I would fall asleep if I closed them and that the light would burn them out if I kept them open. But one thing was for sure...I _must_ obey that voice.

I suddenly stopped moving and a new voice had joined the ones around me. This voice was beautiful. It was deep and caring and _so_ gentle.

It called me something familiar and my eyes opened all of the way. A head hovered about a foot above mine, and it seemed familiar. I dragged my eyes across it until I saw the eyes. Those dark, brown, loving eyes.

"I know you," I muttered. "Jesse."

He said some stuff to the other people around me and then placed his hand on my stomach. My skin tingled benath his touch and I knew that it was not because of the cold. Suddenly, memories rushed through my mind. He was my husband. He is a doctor. Suddenly, I remembered everything.

I muttered some stuff, completely terrified, now that I was capable of feeling emotions. Jesse assured me that I would be fine and I believed it, too. Because that voice would never lie to me, I knew that much.

I closed my eyes, safe in the knowledge that I was in capable hands and after a few moments something warm coursed through my veins. I knew that it came from the IV I could feel in my arm, but usually they are cold, not warm...

I did not have any time to think about this because the warmth weakened my resolve and I felt myself drifting off to sleep.

-+-

I could hear voices, but they sounded so distant. At least I was warm now. My fingers and toes, even my nose, still tingled but the rest of my body was virtually pain-free.

"It isn't your fault," one of the voices spoke.

"Yes it is," The other replied. This voice was so full of devastation that I suddenly felt the urge to shed a few tears. "If I had only listened to her then I would have known where she was. I would have went after her once she had been gone for an hour. She would not be in hospital if that were the case."

"Dude, there was nothing you could have done! It's just one of those things that happens. You- oh, Suze!"

I turned my head to face the voices before I opened my eyes. It took a moment or to for my eyes to focus, but when they did I found that I had no problem keeping my eyes open.

"What...what happened?" I asked, delirious no doubt from whatever drugs they had been giving me. I looked up to the person next to my bed...Jesse. He held one of my hands and squeezed it lightly when I spoke.

"Adam found you trapped in a freezer," he explained, nodding to Adam who waved stupidly. "You were brought in with subacute hypothermia."

"English, please," I laughed. He laughed, too, obviously glad that I was well enough to joke around.

"Hypothermia is a condition where the core body temperature becomes dangerously low," he explained, his thumb gently moving against the back of my hand. "Subacute hypothermia occurs when someone has been in a cold environment for a long period of time. You are lucky that Adam found you when he did."

Hypothermia? Isn't that what people who fall in icy lakes get? I guess that shows what I know about medicine.

I took the opportunity to survey my surroundings. I realised for the first time that I was in a private room. I guess I owed that to the fact that my husband worked at the hospital. I also noticed, quite ironically, that it was the same room I had recovered from the RLS Angel's attack in. I know because there is this crack on the ceiling in the far corner. Jesse obviously doesn't have _that_ many privileges if I get the worst private room there is. If he would just train as a surgeon then I would get the good rooms...you know, the ones with blinds on the windows and a lock on the door.

I also noticed that my bedside table was adorned with several get well soon cards and a huge bouqet of flowers. Of course, this raised a few questions. I settled for asking the most obvious.

"How long have I been in here?"

Adam and Jesse exchanged glances. They weren't nervous or anything so I guess I didn't have anything to worry about.

"Eight hours," Adam told me, clearing his throat deliberately. "The, um...flowers arrived five minutes ago. Your mom and stepdad came about an hour ago and CeeCee and Jake were here a bit earlier. Word got round fast, you know."

I scooped the cards up with the hand that didn't have an IV attached to it (why did I have an IV in my hand, anyway? It wasn't pumping anything into me) and grabbed the card from amongst the flowers (pink lillies). Of course, there were the usual cards from family members, mom and Andy, Jake and David (no Brad), CeeCee, Gina, Father Dom (with the heartfelt message; 'Have I not warned you about your ways? Look at where they have got you now.') and my receptionist. The flowers had obviously been ordered over the phone because I did not recognise the handwriting in the card.

**_Suze,_**

**_You just can't stay out of trouble, can you? You'll pull through, though...you always do. You are strong like that. I hope you are feeling better by the time I get to the west coast...which may be sooner than I planned._**

**_Keep safe (or at least try to),_**

**_Paul_**

**_x_**

I laughed at the message. Oh well...at least he isn't sending me roses anymore.

For the first time in God knows how long, I was actually looking forward to seeing Paul. He may be able to help me figure out what is going on with the house. He kept all of his grandfather's papers when he moved out of the glass house...maybe there is something in there about black goo. Or not. He probably wouldn't believe me...Jesse doesn't. Well, ok, to give him credit he _is_ trying to...he thinks that I am seeing these things...only they aren't, well...there.

I guess the only thing I can do until Paul gets here is wait it out. According to Jesse, I would be released from hospital tomorrow and I have already been given a week off work to recover. I can tell you, I am so not looking forward to being woken up at eight in the morning by the cardio guy Jesse was telling me about. Cardio is heart, right? Didn't I have hypothermia? Yeah, it turns out that hypothermia temporarily weakens the heart. Great. I survive being locked in a place they store dead cows and I am told I could drop dead of a heart attack. I was also old that I was extremely lucky...most hypothermia patients are admitted to ICU, but for some reason, there were no abnormalities once my body temperature was returned to normal. I guess that being a mediator and virtually indestructable (ha ha, I wish) _does_ pay off sometimes.

Jesse stayed with me all night and only slept when I did. He didn't even leave my side to get me a change of clothes for tomorrow; he gave Adam the house keys and made _him_ go.

The worst thing about the hypotermia is that it did nothing to help settle my turbulent stomach. I found myself limping to my private bathroom in the small hours of the morning to empty my stomach not once but _twice_. This is a perfect example of how bad my luck is; I buy a perfect house which just happens to be haunted or posessed, I deal with my first violent ghost in months and find myself locked in a freezer for my efforts, I get rushed to hospital with hypothermia _and_, on top of all that, I am developing a stomach bug. There isn't any justice in this world.

By the time I had staggered back to bed after my second visit to the bathroom, Jesse was awake and very worried. He tried to talk me into getting myself checked out properly, but I refused. It was just a stomach bug, what was there to worry about?

When I crawled back into bed I shimmied over so that Jesse could climb in next to me. He seemed unsure at first but once I grabbed the collar of his shirt and started to drag him up, he decided that it wouldn't do any harm. He lay on top of the blanket whereas I lay under it, but I pulled it down to my waist so that he was able to wrap an arm around me.

"You're so warm," I spoke into his neck, running my hand up his back. I found his heat quite pleasurable...it was the first warm thing I had felt since they tried to warm me up back in the ER. Everything after that had been cold. Jesse lifted his right hand and pushed some stray hair out of my face. He then smiled at me cheekily and kissed me on the nose, taking me completely by surprise.

"Go to sleep _querida_," he whispered, gently stroking my cheek. I said something in reply but I couldn't quite make out what it was. Something about my bladder and my amazing new-found talent of regurgitating. It didn't make much sense to me because the warm thumb that he dragged up and down my cheek over and over again began to have a curiously sedating effect on me. I mumbled something else before my eyelids slid shut and Jesse replied, but I was too out of it to hear whatever it was that he said.

Looking back, I really should have paid more attention to my sickness...

**AN - Well, I got it done :). It's a bit disappointing for me, but hopefully you will all like it :).**

**Thank you to my reviewers and hello to my new readers (my stats are increasing! _+touch wood+_)...don't be afraid to review...I admit that I am addicted to reviews...and since there is no such thing as RAA (Review Addicts Anonymous) the only thing you can do to help is give me my next fix!**


	6. To Those Who Wait

**Something Wicked**

_**Chapter Five - **To Those Who Wait_

What does it take to get out of babysitting duties around here? Obviously more than hypothermia and one hell of a stomach bug because I found myself as Aaron McTavish's nanny on the first day of my sick leave. Don't they realise that sick leave actually means _sick_ leave. Nothing aggravates a bad stomach more than the smell of a not-so fresh diaper. Between the activities of my stomach and being on constant wipe alert, I hardly had any time to recover.

Jesse was trying to take as much time off work as he could, but he was still required to work for three days of the week. I tried to tell him that he didn't need to stay home, that I felt just fine, but being as stubborn as he is, he would not listen. He seemed to be terrified of leaving me on my own. I swear, he worries_ way_ too much.

I was woken by the doorbell on my second sick day at eight am...too early for my liking. As a reporter for the Carmel Pine Cone, CeeCee chooses her own hours...it is such a shame that she chose the earliest hours that she could get.

"There are fresh diapers in the bag," she explained, hooking Aaron's travel bag onto my arm. "And enough food for the day. I was low on milk, so you might have to go out and buy some if it runs out. And I got you something at the pharmacy on my way here."

She strolled past me and placed Aaron carefully onto the sofa, shoving a couple of cushions out of the way in the process. Once she was done, she reached into her handbag and pulled out a white plastic bag, which she practically shoved in my hands.

"It should help your stomach problems," she told me, seeming slightly nervous. I laughed and muttered an apprehensive "ok".

It took me a few moments to figure out which way up the bag went, then I tipped its contents into my free hand. It was a blue, rectangular box with something about 'two easy steps' printed onto the side. I flipped the box over, its contents rattling inside and almost choked on the air I was breathing when I read the label.

"Home pregnancy test?" I spluttered, almost dropping the stupid thing. I looked up at CeeCee and she stared back at me, looking completely serious. I sighed and tossed the box onto the table behind me.

"CeeCee, I'm not pregnant," I laughed. "I just have a stomach bug, that's all."

She shook her head incredulously and moved closer to me, removing her sunglasses so that I could see her violet eyes.

"Have you been feeling uneasy lately?" she asked. Well, obviously...I haven't been _dry_-hurling all this time. I told her so and she began to throw more questions at me. "Have you been running to the loo more frequently? Has your appetite changed?" There were more, kind of personal questions, and the answer to most of them was yes.

"Suze, I was exactly the same before I found out that I was pregnant with Aaron!" She squealed, obviously somewhat excited over the prospect of becoming a godmother. "Unless you and Jesse have put your marital relations on hold for the past few months, then chances are that you are pregnant."

I swore violently. Thank goodness that Aaron is too young to understand what I said.

"Suze, just take the test!" She ordered me, kissing her son goodbye and rushing out of the front door. "And call me when you do!"

When I heard her car pull out of the driveway, I turned towards the cardboard box and laughed uneasily.

"There is no way I am taking you," I told it. Realising that I was talking to a cardboard box, I sighed and turned my attention to the baby on the sofa.

Aaron was out like a light, despite being wide awake when his mother dropped him off. He was kind of cute. He looked a lot like Adam, though he had blonde hair, no doubt inherited from his mother. For some strange reason, I began to wonder what any child Jesse and I had would look like. Very dark hair, no doubt, and I hoped that they would have their father's eyes. Any child that Jesse fathered would be gorgeous, there was no doubt about that.

I left Aaron to snooze and made my way to the kitchen with the intention of cleaning the dishes. We own a dishwasher, but being home alone is so boring that I decided to give it a go. I got a lot of practice when I lived with my mom and Andy, so it wasn't too difficult.

I flicked the radio on as I passed it, desperate for some form of entertainment. Of course, I turned the volume down so that I would be able to hear Aaron if he woke up. He has not learnt to crawl just yet, but he loves to roll and no doubt he would roll right off the sofa. Which was why I placed cushions on the floor next to sofa, to break his fall.

I looked around the kitchen warily before starting on the dishes, hoping that the black stuff had not returned. Fortnately the kitchen was clear and I was able to get on with my chores. And sing along to the radio_ really_ badly. But come on...singing is no fun if you are good at it.

"_You promised me a dream home, with roses round the door_," I wailed. "_You'll cover me in diamonds, there's nothing I want more_."

Its strange how CeeCee's words and that little plastic box remained in my thoughts as I scrubbed last night's chicken teriyaki (I decided to cook for once) from our plates. What if I _was_ pregnant? What would that mean? I have only started working at the clinic. Would I still have my job? But what if I wasn't pregnant? What was wrong with me? Was it something to do with the black gunk that seemed to seep out of our walls for me (and only me) to see. If I was imagining the strange goings-on then was my sickness psychosomatic?

"_You'll be true and be faithful too, but I've got my doubts and what if I'm right? What if I'm right?_"

I ruined the rest of the song. I wouldn't be surprised if Sandi Thom sued me. I wouldn't blame her.

I managed to get through about three quarters of the dirty dishes before Aaron began to wail, and from the smell that drifted towards me when I approached him, I was left with no doubts that he needed a diaper change. This is the one part of babysitting that I hate. As if that wasn't bad enough, Aaron started giggling like crazy when I was changing him. He started to screech and shove his fingers up his nose. I guess that he is more like his father than I realised.

I shook my head in disgust when I finished and looked down at him as he continued to explore his nostrils with his fingers.

It was when I was through laughing at him that I heard it. That groaning sound, like wood under a heavy weight. I snapped my head upwards (the direction of the noise) and froze when I saw the black liquid creeping along the ceiling. This time I was not surprised to see it. However, that did not mean that it didn't terrify me. I tore my eyes away from it and shook my head desperately, trying to shake the fear away.

"It's not real," I told myself. "I am imagining it. It. Isn't. Real."

I turned my attention back to Aaron who, for some reason, had stopped laughing. If he had suddenly turned into a turnip, I would not have been more surprised. He was staring at the ceiling. More than that, he was staring at the black goo! He lifted one of his tiny fingers and pointed at it, babbling a load of nonsense.

"Oh, my God!" I screeched. "You can see it! I'm not crazy!"

Aaron started babbling again and laughed...actually _laughed_...at the creepy stuff. When I looked up again, it began to slither back into the walls.

"You saw it!" I told Aaron. "You actually saw it! Do you know what this means?" He babbled and looked at me in confusion, chewing on the same finger he had shoved into his nose a few minutes ago. I pulled it out of there and threw him a disgusted look.

"I'm not crazy," I repeated. "It's real!"

Why couldn't Jesse have been here? He is the only person I want to believe me, I couldn't care less what my best friend's seven-month-old baby thought of me.

I looked over to the table I had casually thrown the pregnancy test on to. What harm could it do? Chances were that it would turn out to be negative anyway, so...

"What do you think?" I asked Aaron. He held a hand out towards me, showing me what he found up his nose. I grimaced. "Ah, what do you know?"

I wrapped an arm around him and balanced him on my hip to carry him upstairs. I grabbed the pregnancy test on my way and even managed to fit on of his toys into my hand.

When we finally reached the bedroom I shared with Jesse, I placed him gently on the bed and gave him his toy to keep him occupied. Then, I headed towards the en-suite bathroom.

I locked the door behind me. What? I don't care if its just me and the baby, I like my privacy.

I tipped the contents of the box onto the toilet lid and frowned. There was an instruction booklet, but I didn't read it. You just pee on a stick, right? How hard can it be?

Unfortunately, it turned out to be very difficult. It was extremely confusing and there was this little pipette thing which I had no idea as to what it was used for. So, I gave in and read the instructions.

Details for this kind of thing are kind of gross, so let's just say that I did it as correctly as I could. I stared at the white stick, not sure what to hope for. About ten seconds later, I decided that I needed some sort of alcohol to calm me down. Hey, I don't know if I'm pregnant yet. Surely one glass won't hurt, especially since it is going to show as negative anyway.

Stick in hand, I unbolted the bathroom door and made my way down to the kitchen.

At least, that was the plan. As soon as I stepped out of the bedroom, I walked into something. Or should I say some_one_.

"Jesse!" I gasped, holding the stick behind my back. There was no point in getting his hopes up, right? "What are you doing here? I thought you were working?"

He must have noticed the panic in my voice because his expression became suspicious.

"Um...Joe is covering for me," he said. "Is something wrong?"

I shook my head frantically, blocking the bathroom door (the box and instructions were currently scattered across the floor).

"No, nope," I assured him. "Everything's fine...peachy."

He raised one of his eyebrows in scepticism.

"Peachy?"

Shit.

"Susannah, what are you hiding behind your back?" he asked, trying to get a look into the bathroom. What, did he think I had another man in there or something?

I looked up into his eyes and sighed. It was futile. I _could_ be pregnant, so alcohol _would_ be a bad idea...Jesse would help calm my nerves just as well as Mr. Jack Daniels could.

So, I held the stick out in front of me, feeling my cheeks flush red as I did so. As usual, I could not make out the expression on his face. It could be elation but it could also be disappointment.

"Are you-?" he started, his voice unintentionally breaking off. I shrugged and checked the stick's progress. The little window was still white.

"I don't know," I answered, honsetly. "I could be. CeeCee seems to think that is why I have been so ill lately."

I could see Jesse mentally kicking himself. His expression said "of course!". Some doctor he is if he can't even tell his own wife is pregnant. I'm just kidding. He has been stressed out lately and I guess that the black goo thing hasn't helped.

He pushed me into the bathroom and I placed the stick on the toilet lid before we both perched ourselves on the edge of the bath tub. He placed a comforting arm around my shoulder and I leaned on him, terrified about the test.

"If it's positive," I muttered. "What does that mean for us?"

Jesse laughed nervously and began to rub my arm.

"It means that we are going to be parents," he replied, his voice filled with so much joy that I was suddenly calm. Because if he was happy about it, then I had nothing to worry about. I will admit that I was most scared about what he would say if the test turned out to be positive. What if he hadn't wanted kids yet? Fortunately it did not turn out like this.

Two minutes passed in silence before the time came to check the test. Jesse looked at me, but I just couldn't do it.

"Will you...?" I asked, my voice shaking. I was too scared. If it was positive then I had months of pregnancy ahead of me, but if it was negative then I was faced with major disappointment.

Jesse tentatively reached for the stick, pausing to look at me when he wrapped his fingers around it. I nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. He looked at the little window and did not speak. I had to poke him in the ribs to snap him out of his trance.

"Well?" I asked. He looked at me then back down at the stick.

"It has changed colour," he said. "Red. What does red mean?"

I scrabbled for the instruction booklet and scanned it for the information. When I reached the 'results' part, I froze.

"Red," I said. "Red means...red means positive!" The smile that graced my features threatened to split my face in half.

I'm pregnant!

I jumped up and threw my arms around my husband, who was just about as ecstatic as I was. Tears of joy came to my eyes and soaked his t-shirt. This is too good to be true...I _never_ have luck like this! I held Jesse closer to me, terrified that I would wake up and find that this has all been a glorious dream.

"I can't believe it," Jesse muttered, delerious from the joy. "I never thought that I would ever be a father. This is incredible! You have to book an appointment with the doctor, especially since you had hypothermia and we need to start redecorating."

I laughed. Jesse was babbling. That never happens! I pulled back and smiled up at him.

"Good things come to those who wait," I told him, as cheesy as it sounds. He laughed at this. Of course, he had waited one-hundred and seventy-nine years for _this_ good thing.

Since the mood called for it, I allowed him to lower his lips to mine. I heard the stick hit the floor as his hands found a better job to do, and from the way they explored my body, I knew that he wanted nothing more than to carry me to our king-sized bed and just ravish me. Which I was more than happy to let him do. But, of course, we couldn't, on account of the mini-McTavish currently rolling around on our sheets.

"Hey," I laughed, tearing my lips away from his. "I'm _already_ pregnant!"

He sighed in disappointment and kissed me achingly slow one last time before pulling back and clearing the mess up off the bathroom floor. I pushed past him to check on Aaron, who had once again drifted off to sleep. He looked so adorable. And to think, if it wasn't for his adorkable dad, I probably wouldn't be here, expecting a mini-me of my own.

-+-

"Thanks for everything, Suze," Adam gushed when I handed Aaron over to him that night. "I know that you should be resting, but we just can't find a trustworthy babysitter."

I assured him that it was alright and he forced Aaron to wave goodbye to me before carrying him to his car. I was glad that it was Adam and not CeeCee that had picked their son up. I don't think I am ready to tell anyone about the baby yet. I need time to get used to it myself.

As soon as Adam's car disappeared into the darkness, I felt arms around me and lips pressing against my neck.

"I love you," Jesse whispered, completely out of the blue. But that was one of the things I liked about Jesse...he is so spontaneous.

"I know you do," I replied cheekily, pulling away from him to finish washing the dirty dishes. Needless to say, since Jesse returned when I was taking the test, I didn't have enough time to finish them earlier.

"Load them into the dishwasher," Jesse urged me, following me into the kitchen. "Come to bed."

I ignored him and began humming an unfamiliar tune. I swear you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. Good things come to those who wait, remember? Yeah, I'm bad. After a minute or two, he seemed to resign himself to the fact that I just didn't want to go to bed right now because he perched himself on one of our stools and I could feel his eyes burning into my back.

"So," I said, smiling as I attempted to start a conversation. "What are you hoping for? Boy or girl?"

I could almost _hear_ him squirming. He hates being put on the spot.

"Actually, I would like a little girl," he answered. I could hear the sound of a smile in his voice...it is a sound I know well. "But will this not be the first of many?"

I heard him stand up as I placed the last plate on the drainer. I knew it...he had been watching my every move.

"The first of a few," I laughed. "My body can only take so much."

I turned around to face him and as soon as I did, his lips covered mine. Uh, Jesse...air!

As soon as I got over the initial shock, I lifted my arms to allow him to move closer to me. He slid his hands under my backside and lifted me onto the bench, setting me down in a wet patch next to the sink. The cool liquid seeped through my pants, soaking even my underwear. Not that it mattered; they would both be coming off soon, anyway.

"The bedroom," I managed to pant, dragging my nails down his back. I felt him shudder as my nails pressed into his skin.

He took me in my arms and carried me to the bedroom, almost tripping up the stairs as he went. When we finally reached the master bedroom, he lay me gently on the bed, removing my wet trousers before I had a chance to recover from the fall. Air rushed to the damp places on my legs, causing me to shiver from the cold. I giggled slightly, but Jesse stopped my giggles by placing his lips over my own once again.

That was when the telephone rang.

"Just leave it," I ordered my husband. We had left the handset downstairs and there was no way he was getting me all excited then just leaving me.

"_Querida_, we should-" he panted as I tried to pull him back down, smashing my lips against his. "Susannah, I should answer it..."

Before I could turn on my charm, he pulled away and jumped off the bed. I wanted to complained, but I was completely speechless. It was like that scene in Love Actually where Laura Linney gives up a night with the office hottie to take a phone call. Except that guy was way hotter than me...and it was her mentally ill brother who called...this was probably just CeeCee, wanting to know the results of the test.

Unfortunately, no matter how much I pouted my lips or repositioned my breasts, I could not get him to change his mind and he ran downstairs to get it, leaving me alone and half-naked on the bed.

That guy is lucky I am so forgiving.

I fluffed up the pillows and lay on my side, resting my eyes for a few minutes. I could hear Jesse's voice downstairs, but it sounded so far away. I moved my arm so that my hand could effortlessly glide to my currently-flat stomach. How long before I start to show? I better have enough time to find some nice maternity clothes. I can't risk losing my reputation as trendiest girl in the clinic because of my bump.

There was so much that I didn't know about babies, so much that I needed to find out. If we started redecorating one of the guest bedrooms now, I may be able to get it finished before I get too big. That would be nice, working on the room myself. It would be something to take my mind off everything.

I was lost in my thoughts when I felt something cool on my ankle.

"That was quick," I murmured, debating whether or not I should let him have his wicked way with me tonight. I could pretend that I am asleep...oh, I already spoke, didn't I? Crap.

He didn't reply, but I felt his hand wrap around my ankle. What the hell was he doing? I was just about to ask him when I felt something touch my back, snaking around to my stomach. How could-? Oh, no. Jesse couldn't possibly do that...even if for some reason he decided to grab my ankle and stroke my back, there is no way that his hand could move like that.

I quickly rolled over, desperate to see who was doing this.

I screamed.

I was right...it wasn't Jesse.

**AN - Can I cringe now? Ugh, sorry, I just didn't like that chapter, especially the ending. I had it done a couple of days ago, but I couldn't get the ending right. I have been feeling really down lately, and it got so bad that even writing couldn't help...but I just wanted to get the end of this chapter done and get it out, heh...it was really bugging me.**

**I just want to say a huge, HUGE thank you to EVERYONE. The response since last chapter was PHENOMENAL! 17 Reviews! Granted, only 11 were for this chapter, but that is still great! Thank you guys so much...I was so happy when I read them. Keep it up! And have an imaginary Jesse plushie...**

**Please review again and put that smile back on my face :).**

**Disclaimer - All characters, etc. related to the Mediator belong to Meg Cabot. And What If I'm Right? belongs to Sandi Thom.**


	7. Visitors

**Something Wicked**

_**Chapter Six - **Visitors_

I don't know what made me turn around. Any normal girl would have jumped off the bed as soon as she realised that whatever was wrapping itself around her ankle didn't belong to her husband. But I did. Because I'm not any normal girl.

As soon as I saw what was draped across our sheets, I felt fear grip me. My heart stopped and my supper was threatening to make an appearance. I wanted to move, I _knew_ that I had to move, but my body was frozen. As soon as I screamed, the black, rubbery substance leapt at me (really...there is no other way to describe it). It coiled around my exposed midriff and snaked down my thigh, causing my skin to tingle unnaturally beneath it. I wriggled around in it, having finally regained control of my body, but the more I moved, the tighter it wound around me. I could feel myself growing weaker as the tingling turned into pain. I looked down at my legs and I could see blood trickling down my calf onto the pale bedsheets. I don't know if it was the blood or the sudden rush of adrenaline, but I jerked as hard as I could and ended up rolling off the bed. As I did this, the black stuff unravelled and I was suddenly free. So...I ran. Fight wasn't working, so flight seemed to be my only option.

I could hear the ominous groaning I had begun to assoctiate with the goo as I flew across the landing. I could hear Jesse sprinting up the stairs and he attempted to grab me as I reached him, but my legs would not stop moving. I roughly pushed him aside and half-ran half-fell down the stairs until I landed face down on the living room carpet. I must have bit my lip as I hit the floor because I could taste blood, but I was too preoccupied with getting as far away from that...stuff as was possible that I chose to ignore it.

I crawled across the floor until I reached the sofa and used it to pull myself up into a sitting position. I could hear Jesse calling my name and his footsteps drawing closer, but I couldn't quite focus on them. All of my attention was focused on the figure in the corner. I knew that it wasn't Jesse because it walked right through the wall. Jesse hasn't been able to do that for almost eight years. It flickered as if it were an image that was fighting to be seen. It reminded me of a ghost from a movie I had recently seen, though I couldn't quite place its name. It was distinctly human, though it was flickering in and out of existance, so it obviously wasn't alive and wasn't quite corporeal yet. It began to move toward me at a slow pace, flickering and blurring frequently. I jumped when I felt hands on me, but relaxed when I realised that they were Jesse's.

"_Nombre de Dios_!" he exclaimed.

I had to close my eyes, unable to take looking at the image any more. When I opened them again a minute or so later, it was gone.

"Please tell me that you saw that," I breathed, holding onto Jesse's shirtfront. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me towards him as he muttered a respose into my hair.

"I am sorry that I didn't believe you," he whispered.

I finally allowed the tears that I had been holding back to show. Jesse pulled back and began to run his hands along my legs. Once my vision cleared, I glanced down to see huge red marks on my thighs and shins as well as a thick line of blood which had dried slightly on my calf.

"What happened?" Jesse asked after rushing to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. I grimaced in slight pain as he wiped the blood from my leg.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "I was just lying in bed, waiting for you when this black...whatever it was wrapped around me. It was horrible, I could feel it...sucking my skin or something." I raised a hand to wipe the tears from my eyes and noticed that similar red marks were visible on my arms.

"Shit," I muttered upon seeing them.

"That figure," Jesse said, his voice shaking from the anger that he obviously felt. "I have never seen anything like it. It was not completely corporeal...not even to mediators like us!"

I squealed quietly in pain as Jesse cleaned the wound on my leg. When I looked down, the blood was all gone. I could see a small laceration where the blood had previously covered, though it did not look deep.

Jesse did a pretty efficient job of bandaging up my shallow wound, and by the time he had finished, most of the marks on my body had faded and were now merely more than slight blemishes.

"Whatever attacked you must have broken the skin when you moved," he explained. "The rest of the marks look like...suction wounds. Though I have never seen them fade as fast before."

His fingers had stopped tying the bandage around my wound, but they continued to brush lightly against my leg. Unfortunately, this did not have the usual effect on me. I guess that the black gunk had spoiled the mood again. It's amazing that this baby got conceived, I tell you.

Jesse settled down next to me and held me close, hoping to ease my shaking.

"We can't stay here," I muttered. "Not with the little one on the way. I don't want this thing to harm our baby."

For the first time since I found out that I was pregnant, Jesse's hand moved to my stomach and rested there. He moved his head towards mine and placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

"I will ask Father Dominic to cleanse the house tomorrow," he whispered back. "We should stay with someone else tonight. Somewhere safe."

I tried to reply, but my voice caught in my throat, so I settled for nodding in agreement. There was no way that I would be able to sleep in this house tonight.

"Why is it always us?" I wondered aloud.

-+-

Thankfully, CeeCee and Adam were more than happy to loan us their spare bedroom for the night.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep well that night and neither did Jesse. I told him to stop torturing himself for not believing me, but he couldn't. He was my husband and it is a husband's job to worry about his wife, I guess.

Jesse was asleep when I decided to get up the next morning. It was early and Adam and CeeCee had not yet left for work. I managed to pull a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt on before sneaking out of the house before anyone realised that I was out of bed.

The cool morning air soothed my burning throat. It was finally feeling the adverse effect of all the screaming I had been forced to do lately. I licked my chapped lips and began to jog down the street. I had not been running in such a long time and I missed feeling the wind whipping past me as my feet slammed against the asphalt. It was a strange kind of therapy. Almost as good as sinking my fists into a punch bag.

I jogged until my ankles began to ache and the balls of my feet burned as if I had been running on hot coal. The pain was almost as therapeutic as the cool breeze on my face. There is nothing more rewarding than feeling the pain of your efforts. Yeah, I'm weird, but so what?

I limped into a nearby park and dropped down onto one of the wooden benches, exhausted from my small workout. I didn't know if exerting myself was good for my unborn child, though.

I mopped the sweat from my brow with the bottom of my t-shirt. I checked my midriff once I had finished and saw that the phantom hickeys had vanished just like the ones on my arms and legs. The wound on my leg, however, was still visible. Fortunately the tourniquet that Jesse had applied seemed to have done its job as the blood flow had ceased.

I slumped back on the bench, tilting my head towards the sky and closing my eyes. It was always peaceful out here in the morning. There were the occasonal joggers who passed by, but other than that the park was completely empty. Which was why I jumped slightly when a voice spoke my name.

"It's a bit early for you, isn't it?"

I slowly tilted my head so that the owner of this familiar voice was in my line of vision and smiled when I saw him.

"Paul," I laughed, pushing myself to my feet. He smiled at me, flashing his pearly whites.

"De Silva," he answered. "How are you doing?"

I pulled him towards me and wrapped my arms around him, glad to see him. It was strange because when I first met him I would not have hugged him willingly if I had the choice. But so much has happened since then. There was the posession and then the warehouse incident, not to mention the various violent situations he had helped me out of.

"I'm good," I lied. "Your practice going well?"

He nodded slightly before surveying his surroundings. Paul had recently been offered a great partnership in a law firm in his hometown of Seattle. Thankfully he had not chosen corporate law as a profession, which had initially been his choice. I heard that he is doing quite well for himself, despite the fact that he is already filthy rich, especially since his grandfather died. It was strange seeing him in 'normal' clothes. You know, like jeans and a shirt. Alright, the shirt was obviously Armani, but the jeans were A & F, so I let him off.

I felt kind of cheap standing next to him in my Nike sweats and my 'No Outfit Is Complete Without A Few Cat Hairs' t-shirt. Jesse bought me the tee as a joke when I complained about Spike's orange hairs clinging to my favourite suede boots. I may sort of miss the late Spike, but I don't miss his hairs everywhere.

"You look...different," Paul commented, ignoring my question. "You didn't get plastic surgery, did you? I thought you shrinks were all about inner beauty and shit."

I raised an eyebrow in disgust. Like I would ever consider plastic surgery. Like I even need it. Maybe I would change my mind after the baby. When I got the sex talk from my mother she tried to scare me out of having it by telling me that everything sags once you have a kid. Looking at her, though, I can tell she was lying. Either that or she had dabbled a little in the uplift world herself.

"Actually," I said, unable to conceal a small smile. "I'm pregnant."

To say that Paul was shocked would be an understatement. His mouth did not drop but his eyes bugged way out. I kind of got offended. I mean, is it so strange that a happily married woman decides to have a child? Apparantly so.

"Wow," he gasped once he remembered what his mouth and words were for. "Kids, huh? Congratulations."

I smiled at this this small compliment. He seemed to be genuinely happy for me. Of course, he had no reason to still have a crush on me; he had a long-term girlfriend (going on two years) now. Fortunately he had left her in Seattle. I have met some of his exes and..let's just say that their heads were so full of air that they would float off like a balloon had they not been attached to their stick-thin bodies.

Paul and I talked all the way back to the the house I share with Jesse. What did we talk about? Nothing in particular. Just friendly chit-chat. It felt good to talk to him after speaking only through IM for the past few years. Though in a way, it was probably for the best. I knew that it was hard for Jesse to accept that Paul and I were now good friends. They get on quite well now but you don't just forget that someone tried to make it so that you never met the love of your life. I sure as hell haven't forgotten it. Fortunately, I am now a firm believer in second chances so I did my best to put the past behind me and build a good friendship with Paul.

I talk to Jack a lot, too. All over the phone or IM, of course. He is attending high school in Seattle now and is sixteen years old. _Sixteen_! That's the age I was when I met him! Fortunately, he has turned out to be a far better teenager that his brother ever was. He actually helps the ghosts that approach him rather than stealing from them. But I guess he has his great teacher to thank for that. The only teacher Paul had was Dr. Slaski. It makes me shudder just thinking about what that formerly evil old man taught poor, naive pre-school Paul.

I looked up when we reached the door of my house and froze. I forgot.

How could I forget that I was almost mutilated by some strange black goo less than nine hours ago?

Paul noticed my hesitation and cleared his throat in an obvious manner.

"Nice house," he said, observing the neat front garden and freshly-mown grass. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

I rudely shook my head and grabbed his arm before attempting to drag him down the driveway. Needless to say, I didn't get far. Paul is twice my weight, most of the excess made up of muscle so what chance did I stand? He was not impressed by my rudeness.

"Suze, what's wrong?" he asked, seeming torn between being hurt and mad. Since I could not pull him down the path or tell him to get lost, I had no choice but to tell him the truth. Or a version of the truth anyway.

"I..." I started but drifted off when I realised that I wasn't sure how to phrase this. "We have been having problems. There has been something in our house and it attacked me last night. Father Dom is going to perform a blessing today to see if it will drive...whatever it is out of the house."

Paul's eyebrows knitted together as he tried to decipher what I had just said. Yes, I am still the world champion of speed-talking.

When his eyebrows finally relaxed he reached a hand out and gently took my arm. I didn't even protest when he lead me back towads the house.

"Let me see," he said, showing no emotion at all. I didn't know whether he was saying this because he didn't believe me or because he wanted to help me.

"Paul, you reall don't-" I started but he interrupted me.

"Suze, I know a lot more about shifting than you, Jesse and Father Dominic do," he told me. "Maybe I can help."

I sighed and pulled my keys out of my pocket (it's a habit. I never leave _any_ house without my keys, purse or cell).

He followed me silently into the house, observing everything with interest. I could tell that he was impressed. Impressed by the house, that is. There was no sign of the black goo, or of the strange flickering figure apart from a small bloodstain on the carpet in front of the sofa. I doubted that it would come out easily. But whatever, we could just move the sofa forward a few inches to cover it.

"Tell me what happened," Paul said, stepping into the living room. I glanced nervously around the room and swallowed hard when my eyes fell on the fireplace.

Paul listened carefully as I told him everything that I knew; the renovation, the goo, the figure, the vanishing hickeys. When I finished he strolled over to the fireplace and bent down to observe the wood. He ran a finger along its varnished surface while I explained what I knew about it. I was halfway through a sentence when he held up a hand to silence me.

"Have you noticed that the grain is running in more than one direction?" he asked, pulling himself to his feet. I noticed that he linched slightly when his eyes fell on my wedding photo which lay undisturbed on the top of the fireplace.

"Yeah," I replied, moving towards him but still keeping my distance from the fireplace. "It keeps changing, too. At first I thought that it was nothing, but after the black stuff came out of the wall behind it..."

"I think I know what the problem is," Paul stated, finally tearing his eyes from the fireplace. "The fireplace must be haunted. Don't laugh! Ghosts don't just haunt houses, they can haunt objects and even people. It happens when someone dies and doesn't want to let go of their life. A lot of the time they just become a ghost, but other times they can become an emanation, focused around a particular object. But they can't usually take human physical form..."

"So, my fireplace is haunted?" I asked in disbelief. "Great...just great. Well, it's going to have to go."

Paul laughed at this. It wasn't a normal laugh, it was a sort of 'I can't believe that you are so incredibly dense' laugh.

"It's too late for that," he informed me, still laughing. "If it attacked you upstairs then it has obviously spread to the house. Go with the blessing...it might work."

"Might?"

If this cleansing didn't work, what the hell were we supposed to do?

Paul shrugged and leaned backwards against the fireplace.

"Did you not even wonder what it was doing to you?" he asked, slightly amused for some reason. I honestly don't know why he was acting so calm. "The entity that _was_ trapped in the fireplace was forced to take the form of the black goo because it can't manifest itself as a ghost. You are a shifter. You have immense powers and it was trying to feed off these powers in order to gain the strangth to become corporeal. I'm guessing that the figure was its first attempt to do this. It sounds like it still hasn't managed to drain enough energy from you, so you are safe for now."

"Safe?" I yelled incredulously. I closed my eyes and counted to ten slowly in my head. This 'emanation' is draining me dry and he s telling me that I am 'safe'? However, I decided to keep this to myself and ask him a different question.

"What about Jesse? It hasn't attacked him yet," I pointed out.

"Jesse has only been a mediator for eight years," he explained. "You have been a mediator for twenty-two years...your abilities are obviously stronger than his."

He smirked slightly as he finished his sentence and I instantly knew what he was thinking. He had always told me that I was strong, but I never believed him. I know that I am strong on the outside, but I have never been strong on the inside. I act like I am but all that does is make me a good actress.

I sighed and smiled back at him. Behind him, my wedding photo shifted slightly and I could see a shadow creeping along the mahogany surface of the fireplace. My smile broadened as I realised what was happening. This time I did not freeze in fear.

Paul jumped when the black substance touched his wrist and leapt away from the fireplace. He watched in horror as the goo slowly retracted and disappeared behing the fireplace.

I was still smiling when he looked at me in shock.

"I guess it's getting desperate," I laughed.

"That little bastard!" Paul exclaimed. "Oh, it's so going down."

**AN - Sorry it took so long this time :). I had half of the chapter done for ages...There may be a delay in updates in the future...it's a busy term for me. Hopefully things should die down by the end of October...**

**It's official...I love my reviewers. And to prove how much, I am going to reply right now...because I haven't had much time to reply to individual reviewers.**

**_Kat_ - Yup, I'm smiling :D. Reviews are the best therapy ever :). Thank you for your kind commenst and thank you very much for reviewing :).**

**_AliAlandra_ - Us women blame everything on hormones, heh...Thanks for the review :)**

**_Frolicking Bananas_ - Well, he didn't see the black stuff, but did the figure make up for it:). I'm sorry about the slang thing :(. My area has a really obscure dialect so I have to translate into normal English then American English, lol. Yeah, that's my excuse for having a brain fart :). And that fruit you were asking about? I can't get the idea out of my head. So expect one soon. Either in this or Cursed. Thanks for the review :)**

**_Kat_ - **

**_marshmallowfluff25 - _looks all embarassed I can't help doing cliffhangers...they just come naturally. :S Thanks for reviewing :)**

**_amattsonperdue _- Thanks for the review :)**

**_Liz Hollow - _Thanks :). I'm feeling a bit better now. Hence the update :). Thanks for reviewing.**

**_Kit Kat -Nina-_ - What can I say? I guess I have self-esteem issues. Well, the reviews are a huge ego boost :). I was debating whether or not to get her pregnant, but I figured that it would be a good idea... Thanks for the review :)**

**_Laura_ - Intrigued is good ;). Thanks for the review :).**

**_Puja_ - If you are still alive :S...sorry that it took longer than usual :(. Thanks for the review :).**

**_Junaberry Pop_ - Hmm...I can see why you think Paul would molest Suze in her bed (hehe), but...it was the goo...And I know what New Moon is :). It's the sequel to Twilight. I bought Twilight a while ago but haven't got around to reading it yet :( (feel free to yell at me for this :)). Thanks for the review :).**

**_hotapps_ - Thanks for the review :)**

**_Sweetly Sarcastic_ - Haha, so would I :). I'd probably have died of a heart attack years ago if I was Suze... Thanks for the review :).**

**_Emmohdee_ - Thanks for the review :)**

**_mbrawks _- Thanks for the review :)**

**_butt-kicking-chick_ - You got both your wishes :). Thanks for the review :).**

**Now, please review again and make me even happier :)...**


	8. Far From Over

**Something Wicked**

I was dubious about re-entering our house after the cleansing. I honestly didn't think that it would work, but when Jesse and I finally plucked up the courage to return home (well, alright, when_ I _did...Jesse was fine with it), guess what? No black goo!

If it was still creeping around, it would have jumped at me as soon as I set foot inside the house. I knew this from the desperation with which it went for Paul a few days earlier. I even felt brave enough to check the fireplace and the grain had not changed since the day the cleansing was performed.

Satisfied with the assumption that the goo ghost was gone, we were able to get on with our lives. Jesse took a couple of days off from work to help me pick out colours for the nursery (we chose neutral colours as we wanted the gender of the baby to be a surprise) and when I returned to work I had a fifteen-minute argument with my uptight boss over maternity leave. Somehow she thought that I got pregnant on purpose, just to spite her.

I obeyed Jesse's orders and saw my doctor for a check up and a real pregnancy test (which turned out positive, of course) and I am now booked in for an ultrasound scan in a few weeks. It turns out that I am eight weeks gone. It surprised me, really, that I could carry something for eight weeks and not realise it. But whatever, I knew now.

Everything was back to normal. Jesse and I bickered over stupid little things such as whos turn it was to load/unload the dishwasher and what kind of take away we would have. Maritial relations were back on track (hey, a week is a long time for some people!) and we were even on top of all our paperwork (which my boss doubled on account of the maternity leave thing).

The thing that I found most rewarding was getting back to our Saturday night movie tradition. It wasn't the movie that mattered, or the calorie-laden take away, it was cuddling up with Jesse on the couch. And the event that usually followed.

The choice for the first Saturday back in our house was A Fish Called Wanda. Jesse wanted to see The Grudge (which he hasn't seen yet) but I refused to watch it on account of the black-hair-coming-out-of-the-wall thing. It struck a bit too close to home. I swear, if anything starts to creep down _my_ stairs, I will be out of here like a shot.

"Have I ever told you that you smell so good?" Jesse asked, his nose buried in my hair. I could tell by the way that he surreptitiously moved his lips to my neck that he wasn't getting into the film at all. I could tell that he wanted to get into something else, though...

"We can watch the rest of this some other time," he purred, reaching for the remote. I managed to claim it at the last second and hold it out of his reach. He just sighed and continued to kiss me on the spots that he_ knew_ drove me crazy.

"Jesse," I complained, half-jokingly. I leaned away from him, which only caused me to fall backwards, him on top of me.

"Hey, this bit is really funny," I whined, turning my head towards the television. "Ken's trying to kill the old woman..."

I felt Jesse sigh, his breath warm against my chest. I tried to ignore the shiver that this invoked.

"This isn't going to work, is it?" he sighed, resting his head on my chest.

"No," I agreed, my eyes glued to the television screen. "He kills the dog instead."

Jesse's head jerked up and when he saw the direction of my gaze he picked up a cushion and pressed it into my face. He did not apply much presure, so I was able to swat it away quite easily. When my vision was no longer restricted, I saw him laughing down at me. It wasn't fair, he looks irresistable when he laughs and because he was lying over me, his short hair had fallen over his face, giving him a rugged look that unexpectedly suited him.

"This isn't fair!" I moaned. "You can't take advantage of a girl like this. What happened to your morals?"

Jesse laughed before pressing into me and teasing the skin on my neck with his lips.

"They seem to have disappeared when I married you," he replied.

As soon as his hand ran sensuously up my torso, I knew that I was a goner. I could feel my brain shutting down, handing control over to my primal instincts. Damn the id. Why did Freud have to be right?

He slowly pushed my short prairie skirt up around my waist, making damn sure that his fingers brushed my thighs as he went. I pulled him towards me, partly so that I could kiss him and partly so that his attention was directed away from my underwear. However, he wouldn't kiss me properly...his lips teased the area around my mouth before moving further down, over my chin and...well, you can imagine where...

I have never felt as cherished as I do when Jesse kisses me, even when he is not kissing my lips. All he ever does is worship me...it is a great ego boost. I wanted to reciprocate some of the worshipping, so I turned the tables and gripped his hair tightly so that I could turn his head and kiss _his_ neck. He swore violently in Spanish before pulling back and looking down at me again, this time wearing a pained expression.

"What do you want?" he asked. I smiled impishly as he played with a curl of my hair.

"Let's make love," I requested.

His grin almost matched mine and he leaned in close to me.

"Well, if you absolutely insist," he laughed in a surprisingly good English accent.

What do you know? He _was_ paying attention to the movie.

* * *

I was awoken by a buzz of static. 

I attempted to roll over to hit the 'off' button on my bedside alarm clock but I couldn't move. On one side of me was something hard and warm and on the other was something soft and squishy that would not budge. That was when I realised that it wasn't my alarm clock that was making that irritating buzzing noise.

I groaned as I pushed myself upright, realising that the hard warm thing was my husband and the soft squishy thing was the back of the sofa.

I somehow managed to crawl off the sofa without waking Jesse and turn the T.V. off. I saw from the dial on the DVD player that it was one-forty am. Cue another loud groan. I had a ton of paperwork to get done before Monday.

I turned to look at Jesse, sleeping so peacefully on the sofa. I really didn't want to wake him.

Slowly and unsteadily, I pulled myself to my feet by gripping the top of the T.V. set. My legs felt more unsteady than usual though they were still working, which was a good sign. Now, if I can just stagger up the stairs and change into some night clothes...wait a minute...where is my underwear?

"Shit!" I swore, my hands instinctively covering myself despite the fact that I was otherwise fully clothed. After a few frantic minues of searching I found my missing article of clothing behind the sofa. I really must be more careful next time.

When I finally got round to climbing the stairs, sleep was trying to claim me once again. I stumbled and fell all the way up the stairs (yes, _up_ the stairs) and crawled into my bedroom.

The chest of drawers that stored all of my pyjamas lay on the far side of the master bedroom but I still managed to walk over to it in my weak state and pull out a white cotton nightdress. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye as I pulled the nightdress over my head, which caused me to smile.

"If you've come for round two, forget it...I'm spent," I laughed. I ignored Jesse and began to take my jewellry off. It didn't take long since all I wore were earrings and a bracelet. I could feel his eyes on my back as I pulled back the covers on the bed then wandered over to our ensuite bathroom to brush my teeth and remove my make-up. It was kind of unnerving because he never once moved or made a single noise to make me aware of his presence. I put it down to his sudden change of attitude since we discovered that were were going to be parents.

Seriously, ever since that day a week ago, he has been different. Not in a bad way, though. He has seemed more...alive. Which is ridiculous because he has always been cheerful and full of life. But now it seemed as though he had found a new reason to enjoy the life that I had accidentally given him. I put it down to him giving up on having a family over a century ago. Now that he was going to be a father he seemed to love life that little bit more. Honestly, I haven't seen him so happy since our wedding.

"Are you just going to-?" I started. I cut myself off when I saw that I was alone in our room. But then...why could I still feel eyes on me?

I slowly walked backwards, wanting to have something solid behind me so that nothing could sneak up on me.

When I felt something cold on my arm I realised that it was the _walls_ that I should be afraid of.

I tried to pull away, I really did, but that gooey creep shot out of the wall and surrounded me. I could feel it's cold clammy surface pressed tightly against my skin as it held me into the wall. It slithered around me, burning my skin as it fed off my powers. When I tried to scream it wrapped around my neck, restricting my air supply. I had to use all of the oxygen that I could get to keep my body working.

Part of the fear that I felt was from feeling so safe as I changed a few minutes ago. I really thought that Father Dominic had sorted the problem for us.

I mentally called for Jesse, despite the fact that he had not been able to hear me for years. I was desperate. The strangest thing was that despite the pressure on my neck, the goo wasn't actually hurting me. It was simply holding me in place. As soon as it was finished with me, it vanished (seriously, it didn't retract into the wall...it just vanished) and I fell face-first onto the soft carpet, gasping for breath. As soon as I was able to breathe again I flipped myself over onto my back and braced myself, ready for the black stuff to attack again.

But it didn't.

The marks that were now all over my body began to fade in record time and by the time that I had leapt down the stairs, they were all gone. However, the sinking feeling inside of me grew until I began to shiver uncontrollably.

I raced over to the sofa and grabbed Jesse's shoulders, preparing to shake him awake. I barely had time to be astonished at the fact that he was still fully clothed despite what had happened an few hours earlier.

I say that I _prepared_ to shake him awake, because I never quite got around to it. Just as I began to squeeze him a cold hand was pressed over my mouth and another wrapped tightly around my neck.

I could almost_ feel_ my heart cease beating. I knew from the intruder's clammy skin that they were dead...I did not need the subtle glow of their dark skin to tell me that. I shook uncontrollably as I felt their lips move towards my ear, something solid (their hair, maybe?) gently hitting my shoulder.

A deep, heavily accented voice spoke.

"Do not move," it commanded. "Make no sound."

What could I do but obey?

**AN - Apologies for the shortness and possible lack of quality. I had to force myself to write this chapter, on account of the writers block I have at the moment due to...personal reasons. I have figured out that cliffhangers motivate me to write more quickly (touch wood!), so...cliffhanger :). Apologies.**

**Thank you to all of my reviewers! I love you guys (in a completely platonic sense, of course...). Now, I am not sure who I replied to personally (if anyone...sorry!) so I will reply to everyone. Seriously, I'm trying my best to reply to everyone I can.**

**_Nina_ - Welcome to the agnostic club :). That's why I love the Mediator series so much...it doesn't say that there is a God, but it does hint at _something_ bigger. Thanks for the review :)**

**_Liz Hollow_ - Thanks :). I like nice Paul. But thanks to my post-Twilight stories (OTG, T&T and this) I had a bunged-up Paul-evilness valve. I emptied this well of darkness into Cursed, heh. Thanks for the review :).**

**_Sweetly Sarcastic_ - Hee hee. I hope this wasn't too disappointing :). And you can take a guess as to who the ghost is... And i just realised that I never mentioned what happened to Ryan from T&T...sigh. You can have a guess at what happened to him, lol...there...mystery...or not :S. Thanks for the review :).**

**_Emmohdee_ - Yeah, I know what you mean. It sounds more like something that Suze would say...but it sounded funny at the time, lol. Thanks for the review :).**

**_starrie.skies_ - Wow, thanks :). Thanks for the review :).**

**_amattsonperdue_ - I think I replied to your review...but for the record, lol...Meg said that Paul's birthday is after Suze's, but in the books, he is older than her :S. Strange. So I don't know, lol. Thanks for the review :)**

**_Kat_ - Reviews...(spoken in a Homer Simpson-esque voice). Thanks for yours :).**

**_mbrawks_ - I was laughing so hard when I read that, lol :). Thanks for the review :)**

**_DJ jaz-e-jaz_ - Here you go... Thanks for the review :)**

**Review please :).**


	9. Old Friends and New Enemies

**Something Wicked **

I could have shaken him awake. Sure, the psycho behind me could have easily snapped my neck if I did, but at least Jesse would have been warned. But oh no, I had to withdraw my hands. I had to allow whoever held on to me to drag me away from the sofa and therefore away from help.

The hand that had been around my neck gripped me underneath my right arm and hauled me to my feet. I could tell instantly that this person was taller than me. The only part of them that was visible to me was the hand that remained firmly clasped over my mouth. My assailant's skin was a dark brown; a lot darker than Jesse's. I could feel calluses and smooth burn scars against my lips. This man sure liked to work with his hands.

"Move," he instructed me, his voice deep and very heavily accented. I tried to place the accent but I could not. It was obvious that English was not his native language. English was not Jesse's native language, but at least he managed to speak it in a less...violent way than my assailant. Every word that he spoke (and so far he had only spoken a few) dripped with malice. I had no idea what he intended to do with me, and this fear (coupled with my fatigue) prevented me from fighting back. It wasn't until he dragged me into my bedroom and threw me to the floor that I realised just how much trouble I was in.

I flipped myself over onto my back as soon as I hit the floor, desperate to get a good look at whoever had invaded my house.

He _was_ tall - at least six foot - and he had a frightening amount of muscle. He was skinny, though he had those small, bulging muscles that looked as though they could do a girl like me a lot of damage. His clothes were very strange; he wore a vest made out of what seemed to be animal skin and his pants were made out of a very rough-looking brown material. He was barefoot, of course and around his neck hung a leather thong which seemed to have animal teeth attached to it. His face was framed with shoulder-length dreads, a few of which were bound by strips of a leather-like material.

But his face...

He looked young, perhaps in his thirties, but his face was gaunt and painted crudely with what looked like blood and natural paints. They had begun to flake off in places, such as around his mouth and eyes. The title 'witch doctor' suddenly sprung to mind. He obviously wasn't from this century. He probably wasn't even from this _millennium_.

"Who are you?" I demanded, clinging to the hope that this man might actually be friendly. This hope quickly faded when he reached behind him and produced a very primitive knife. It seemed to be piece of sharp, jagged stone. It looked as though it would be quite painful should it end up plunging into my stomach...or anywhere on my body for that matter.

"That is none of your concern!" he spat, brandishing the knife and stepping towards me. "Just know that I am more powerful than you. So do not attempt to run."

"Oh, don't worry," I mumbled. "I won't." And it was true. My legs seemed to have ceased working. I could only drag myself over to the bed and pull myself up onto it.

The ghost observed me with much interest, his eyes carefully taking in every inch of me. I felt uneasy as he twirled the knife around in his hand, obviously considering how to dice me.

What? I was at the mercy of a madman, so _excuse me_ for being pessimistic.

"You have power," he told me, turning the knife so that the point of it was once again aimed in my direction. "Great power. I sensed it in those men, too. I sensed it within you still when I finally regained the strength to become corporeal. I must have it..."

I looked into his dark eyes for a brief moment and I could see his attack before his body carried it out. I had never found it so easy to read someone. Luckily, I was able to throw myself to the floor as he thrust the knife out. Okay, so the crazy witch doctor guy wants to _cut_ this 'power' from me. I wasn't going to stand for that.

As I hit the floor, he spun, swinging the knife downwards at an alarming speed.

"Stop!" I yelled as I rolled out of the way, acquiring pretty nasty carpet burn as I moved. But the injury was a lot less painful than what I would have sustained had I not moved.

I scooted back so that I was against the dresser and screamed the first thing that came into my head.

"I'm pregnant!" I yelled. "Please...I'm having a baby."

Well, it worked in Kill Bill, didn't it? But obviously the crazy ghost had never even heard of Kill Bill because he lunged at me again, the jagged stone knife plunging into the wooden dresser. My various beauty products tumbled to the floor, my brand new bottle of Pure Poison leaking its seductive contents onto the carpet. At least my nail polish remained in the bottles, but my favourite eyeshadow exploded all over my arm as my tiny cell phone slammed into its container. It surprised me that such a small lump of metal could do so much damage.

That was when it hit me...my cell phone!

I snatched it up as the dead witch doctor guy struggled to pull his jagged blade from the dense wood that he had carelessly plunged it into. As I leapt to my feet, I kicked the ghost in the side, impeding his progress slightly. My sweaty fingers seemed to slide over the buttons of my cell as I dialled the house phone, wondering if I could make it past the ghost and out of the bedroom.

I heard the familiar ring of the house phone almost instantly. Even the ghost froze. I guess he died _way_ before phones were invented.

There were several rings before I heard the sound of the receiver being slowly and lethargically lifted.

"Hello?" Jesse's tired voice asked. But it wasn't his voice that I wanted to hear...I just wanted to wake him up. And the quickest way to get him to come running upstairs? Scream, of course. This wasn't too difficult, considering that the ghost suddenly rammed into me. Especially since my head slammed against the wall as a result.

Everything was a haze after that. I felt something slamming into my face, then I felt my fist slamming in to something and then a weight was lifted off of me. The world was still spinning when I saw someone move towards me. I reacted before I could even think about the situation; my fist slammed into the face of the figure, a very satisfying 'thud' accompanying the pain in my knuckles.

Unfortunately, I lost my balance as a result of this punch and ended up flat on my ass. But the jolt was enough to return my vision to normal.

"Susannah!" Jesse half-yelled, gripping my shoulders. As soon as I lifted my eyes, they were drawn to the nasty-looking red mark on his jawbone.

"Oh, shit," I groaned. Great...I just punched my husband. I am sure that there are hundreds of women out there who would love to punch their husbands, but I just happened to be married to the only man in existence whose world _actually_ revolves around his wife.

To give him credit, he didn't exactly look angry. Okay, so there was that 'did she just do that?' look in his eye, but I guess that he was more concerned about me. As is usually the case.

"Susannah, what happened?" he asked, ignoring the mark that was beginning to turn slightly purple.

I looked at him in confusion, assuming that he had fought off the ghost, but if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, the ghost had chickened out and dematerialised before Jesse had entered the room. As he should...Jesse would have kicked his ass all the way back to ancient Africa...or wherever he was from.

"The goo..." I mumbled. I really didn't want to have to explain everything. But I did, because quite frankly I didn't want to stay in that house any longer.

When I got the part where the ghost dragged me away from him, _that_ muscle in his jaw began to twitch. But he didn't even hold me, like he did that time a possessed Paul attacked me. However, he did stroke my face with his long fingers which comforted me a little.

"Did you recognise him?" he asked. His hand slid under my arm and pulled me to my feet. I stumbled a little before I found my feet and the whole room seemed to spin. It was so bad that I had to grab Jesse's strong shoulders for support. I guess I hit my head a little harder than I had thought.

"No," I replied. "He looked like he was older than _you_...way older."

I lowered myself onto the bed slowly so that I didn't have to use half of my available energy to remain upright. I had barely hit the soft sheets when Jesse pulled my gym bag out of the closet and began to place some of our clothes into it.

"I will book us into a hotel," he explained. "We have already imposed on CeeCee and Adam...and we can't stay here, not until this ghost has been dealt with. He obviously means to do you harm."

A bark of laughter escaped my lips. Don't ask me why I found this so funny. I guess that I was laughing to disguise my fear.

"Well, it looks like he is afraid of you," I joked. "But you're right...we should play it safe. I don't want to fight while...well, I don't want to risk having a miscarriage."

It was stupid, really...how this ghost basically had me cornered. He had leeched off of my powers and now I was too frightened to fight him because I just happened to be pregnant...and I guess the ghost knew that. It made me wonder what else he knew about me. After all, he had basically been spying on me ever since Jesse and I moved in...he must have picked something up when he existed as that black goo.

I shivered as I thought about what he must have seen. After all, he was _everywhere_. He _was_ the house...

Yeah, we _so_ need to get out of here...

* * *

Pebble Beach. That was where we ended up staying. It was the only hotel in the area that was not fully booked. I'm guessing that the price of a room there is the reason for the many vacancies. Jesse barely batted an eyelid when they told him the price of one night in a standard double-room. Yeah, it's nice when you're raking in the dough. Though my boss told me that my salary would increase after my one-year review.

He didn't even book a standard room, either. Oh, no...he booked a suite. A _suite_! He justified this by explaining that we would basically be living there until this ghost was taken care of...and who knew how long that would take?

The suite was similar to the one the Slaters had occupied the summer that I met Paul for the first time. A summer that I will never forget...despite the fact that Jesse ignored me for most of it. The one kiss that he gave me _totally_ made my summer.

The only difference was that this suite only had one bedroom. But one was enough for us.

The bar was magnificent, stocked full of all of my favourite beverages, alcoholic and otherwise. I knew that it was going to be torture since could not drink alcohol. I know that a glass or two won't do much harm, but when your husband is a doctor you have to stick very strictly to health rules.

The room _did_ have a Jacuzzi tub, though. Which was a very welcome alternative. A Jacuzzi always does wonders for tired, aching muscles. _And_ it was big enough for two.

"How is your jaw?" I asked Jesse, carefully observing the now-purple bruise that was the result of my accidental assault.

"It stings a little," he admitted. "But you pack quite a punch. I would have been proud, had I not been on the receiving end of it."

I grinned sheepishly. At least I was still capable of inflicting damage.

I responded by placing a gentle kiss on the bruised area, hoping that I hadn't applied too much pressure. I guess that I didn't because Jesse then moved so that his lips were able to touch mine. Every kiss from Jesse felt mind-blowing to me. The slow, romantic kisses felt almost the same as the hasty, passion-fuelled ones.

"You really should get some sleep," he told me, pulling away to allow us to breathe. "You've had a rough night."

We fell asleep in each other's arms but, needless to say, the sleep did not last long for me. I was awoken after an hour or so by the same sensation in my throat that I had come to know so well. Why the hell do they call it morning sickness if it happens all freaking day?

By the time my stomach had emptied itself of everything that I had to eat that day, I was no longer tired. I groaned in frustration as I glanced at the clock to discover that it was only three am.

I was busy dressing myself when I remembered the days that I used to work here. Kim and I used to spend all of our free time in the internet cafe that was established in the second summer I spent there. I could always spend the next few hours shopping online. It has been so long since I bought something new, anyway. So, dressing myself in a simple white dress, I quietly made my way downstairs so as not to wake the other guests. It was pointless, really, because there was an elevator practically right outside the door of our suite.

The internet cafe was a small room just to the right of the pool area and was usually so busy that you couldn't even squeeze through the door. But in the early hours of the morning it was completely empty. I could hear the light buzz of the computers as I entered the room. The lights were dimmed, so the glow of the computer screens gave the room an almost eerie appearance. I sat down at one next to the door so that I could run should the crazy ghost reappear.

My backside had barely touched the cushioned seat when I heard the creak of a computer chair from the other end of the room. At first I ignored this noise, assuming that it was simply another guest, maybe a businessman who had not finished a presentation that he was due to give later that day...yeah, like _that_ was likely.

I tapped nervously on the keyboard, ignoring the fact that the creaking noise ceased and a soft tapping had replaced it.

Ok, Suze...just relax...look at the pretty dress. Yes, it costs seven hundred dollars, but it's so _pretty_...OK, what the hell _is _that noise?

I spun around angrily, underestimating the rotating capabilities of the chair and spinning three-hundred and sixty degrees. I could feel my face turning magenta as I slowly turned my chair to face whoever was watching me. Way to go, Suze, show the guy what an idiot you are.

The person was stood half-in half-out of the shadows, so I could not see their face. But I could still see enough of them. They were surprisingly young, more than likely a teenager. Their obviously designer jeans hung loosely on them and were coupled with a tight band t-shirt which showed off what seemed to be pretty impressive muscles.

"Suze?" They asked, stepping forward into the light.

Suddenly I was able to see the curly dark hair that framed their defined, youthful face. The piercing blue eyes gazed into mine, though _these_ eyes were filled with warmth and curiosity. He chewed nervously on his bottom lip, obviously concealing a smile. And suddenly appearing stupid around this person no longer worried me. Because he had already seen me cry. He had seen me take a Virgin Mary statue to the stomach and pummel the person who threw it in a fairly psychotic manner.

When I finally came to my sense, I managed to choke out his name.

"Jack?"

**AN - _Emmohdee_ - Yup, this is a continuation...but the ghost isn't in the other ones :P. But you just gave me an idea :D. Thanks for the review. **

**Thank you to all my other reviewers...Sweetly Sarcastic, trisisabel, kat, amattsonperdue, mbrawks and Liz Hollow. I really appreciate you taking the time to tell me what you think :). Also thanks to Nicole (Frolicking Bananas) and Nina (Kit Kat -Nina-) who told me what they thought :). **

**Oh...a quick question...I don't think that I mentioned what happened to Ryan at the end of T&T...so...what do you guys reckon should have happened to him? Should he have died or should he have survived with a life prison sentence or survived then been executed? I swear it's relevant to this story (well, for an idea I have, anyway). **

**Please review :).**


	10. Life At Pebble Beach

**Something Wicked **

"Jack?"

Jack Slater?

I could hardly believe my eyes. I had not seen Jack Slater since my wedding, when he was ten years old.

I always had trouble imagining what he would look like as a teenager, but the images that _did_ creep into my head looked nothing like the actual thing. I may be eight years older than him, but whoa...he was _way_ hotter than Paul was at his age. His hair was darker and his curls seemed less tight than Paul's. His trademark Slater blue eyes shone with intelligence and warmth and observed me with interest and friendly adoration. His attire was somewhat...different than what Paul would have chosen to wear; he had cast aside the preppy 'smart' look for an edgier, slightly 'rock star' look. I guess that his white Thin Lizzy t-shirt added to this look.

"Suze?" he repeated, sounding almost as surprised as I was. "What...what are you doing here?"

I raised one of my eyebrows, a habit I am sad to say that I picked up from Jesse.

"I could ask you the same question," I replied as I leaned back on the chair and crossed my legs, adopting the stance that I took when dealing with my patients. It was professional and detached. At least I hoped it was.

"I live here," I told him. "Well, not in the hotel, but in Carmel..."

Jack reached behind him and pulled a computer chair forward so that he could straddle it and look me in the eyes.

"Um...hello," he tried, obviously realising that he had not yet greeted me. "I...uh. I heard that my brother was staying here. I heard about your accident and I...uh...I wanted to see if you were alright."

He flashed me a pathetic half-smile but I could tell that part of him was worried about me. But I know teenagers...I was one once...and I knew that if your smile doesn't reach your eyes, you are concealing something. And believe me, Jack's smile didn't even reach his nose.

"Try again," I said, smiling sweetly myself this time. Jack simply sighed and bowed his head.

"I heard about what happened to you...Jesse called us and he was talking to Paul for a while so I got curious," he explained. "I...um...kind of listened in on the end of their call and Jesse sounded worried...about you. Paul mentioned something about a 'situation' and that he was flying over to Carmel immediately, so I practically begged him to take me with him. But you know what he's like. So I decided to fly over myself...I was waiting down here until morning. Please don't think I'm a juvenile delinquent or anything...I knew that something was going on and I wanted to help. I owe you a lot, Suze...you basically saved my life."

He looked up at me with what can only be described as 'puppy dog eyes', as cliché as it might sound. I felt an overwhelming amount of fraternal adoration towards him. Jack always was like a younger brother to me. An annoying one sometimes, but a younger brother nonetheless.

"Well, I don't know what surprises me more," I laughed. "The fact that Jesse actually confided in Paul or that fact that you flew several thousand miles to 'help me out'."

"Are you angry?" he asked, his voice unsteady.

"No," I answered. "Actually, I'm impressed. I guess a part of me rubbed off on you."

"It could have been worse," he laughed. "I could have modelled myself on Paul."

I shuddered at the thought.

"Please don't say that," I cringed. "The thought is terrifying."

We laughed together, relieving the tension between us. It was just like old times...except we were older.

I uncrossed my legs and slowly rose to my feet, noticing the hands on the clock signalling that it was a little after four am. I could tell by the shadows inderneath Jack's eyes that he had not slept on the plane. I highly doubted that he had slept at all in the past twenty-four hours. The realisation also caused a wave of fatigue to wash over me.

"So why are you staying here?" Jack enquired, remaining seated as I looked out into the hotel lobby.

"Our new house is haunted," I replied. "And whatever it is is violent and totally not like _anything_ we have dealt with before. We are staying here until we can figure out a way to get rid of it."

Jack sniffed quietly behind me. I heard the familiar squeak of the wheels on the old computer chairs as Jack stood up and retrieved his suitcase from the far side of the room.

"Hey, I'm sorry about your house and everything," he said, shuffling out into the lobby. "If there's anything I can do to help, tell me. After all, that's why I left Seattle...to help you. I'm going to see if I can find Paul now...I've cowered down here for too long now and it's about time that I faced the music. Say hi to Jesse for me, okay?"

He smiled shyly at me before dragging his large suitcase towards the elevator. I am sure that Paul will be thrilled to be woken up at four am by his sixteen-year-old brother. I smirked as I pictured the scenario in my head. I just hoped that he wasn't too hard on Jack. After all, it's _my_ fault that Jack likes helping people so much.

After a few minutes of laughing to myself I began to make my way back up to the suite that Jesse had booked us both into.

I was quiet as I entered the room so as not to wake my sleeping husband. Fortunately the suites are well-maintained, so the door hinges did not squeak like the ones in the less-expensive rooms.

Of course, he was sleeping soundly when I carefully closed the door behind me. I tried to tiptoe towards the bed but like I said, it was four am, so it was pitch black. I should also point out that I am extremely messy. The only reason my room in Andy's house was always so neat and tidy was because I had been sharing it with the hottest guy on the planet...Jesse. But I guess I got comfortable around him after he saw me naked for the first time so my standards began to slip. Which was why one of my gorgeous Miu Miu heels currently lay in the middle of the bedroom floor. And because of its unfortunate position, I stood on it and found myself falling to the ground before I even realised what was going on. I landed on the floor with a bang, my arms and legs flailing like an octopus' tentacles. The shoe remained unharmed, much to my annoyance.

I lay there groaning on the floor for a few seconds before one of the bedside lamps was flicked on, followed by soft laughter.

I made sure to slam my fist against the floor in an angry manner as I struggled to my feet. I know that I am clumsy, but I don't like my clumsiness to be pointed out.

"You know, you could get out of bed and help me," I complained.

"Oh, but it's so much more fun this way," he replied, continuing to laugh.

I managed to pull myself up onto the bed and crawled over to him (it was a queen sized bed...I had enough room to crawl), settling into a sitting position next to his torso once I reached him. From where I sat the view was better than the suite's sea view. Because Jesse doesn't wear a t-shirt to bed, you see. And his chest is still as well-defined as it was when I had to resort to leering at him while he read about philosophy or some other boring topic on my window seat. Not that I don't leer at him anymore...

"Is something bothering you, _querida_?" he asked, a slight hint of amusement in his deep voice. I tore my gaze away from his, um, abdomen and looked into his eyes. Those soft, dark eyes that made resisting him almost impossible. They were filled with the same amusement that I had heard in his voice.

"I met Jack Slater," I told him, disguising my hormonal thinking. As I waited for him to reply, I slid down so that my back was resting against the pillows and Jesse's head was level with my chest. Of course, this just caused him to turn and face me.

"What is he doing here? I thought he lived in Seattle with his parents," he asked. I could feel his breath through the thin material of my dress, which only distracted me.

"He...um...well, you know what he's like," I gulped. "He thinks that he owes me. I don't want him to get involved...he will only get hurt."

"But what about Paul?" His amusement was once again evident in his voice. You know, sometimes I think that I am just a big source of amusement for him. But then he proves me wrong by doing something insanely romantic. You don't spend the afternoon in bed with someone because you find them 'amusing'.

"That's different," I replied. His hand began to move up my leg until it rested on my bare thigh, underneath my white dress. A quick glance down showed me that his eyes were glued to where his hand rested. "Jack's a good kid. Besides, Paul has all this knowledge. He knows a lot of stuff about the supernatural world and he will be a great help. I don't want to drag Jack into this if he's going to get hurt."

The fingers that rested gently on my thigh began to move north, gently tracing circular patterns as they went. I had to choke down a moan as they drifted over my underwear and beneath my dress. I don't know why but there is a spot right at the base of my spine that caused my whole body to tingle whenever Jesse touched it. No one else...just Jesse. His fingers began to move dangerously close to this spot.

"You can't control a teenager, Susannah," he said, his voice unusually calm considering his hand was currently exploring my body. "I learned that with you."

I laughed and punched his shoulder in mock-offence.

"So what do you think we should do about him?" I asked. My chest began rising and falling more hastily as his fingers lightly brushed over the base of my spine before moving towards my stomach. They danced over my skin until he stretched out his hand and pressed the palm to my stomach before moving his hand down towards my legs.

"You're growing," he announced as a smile broke out across his face. "You have a little bump already."

I lowered my own hand to check and felt that I actually was developing a small bump. It was not visually noticeable, but when I ran my hand over the skin I could feel my stomach dipping down ever so slightly below my navel.

By now my smile matched Jesse's. I was smiling deliriously for what seemed like an eternity, returning to my senses only when Jesse grabbed my waist and pulled me down so that he could kiss me.

I melted into him (once I realised what he was doing) and allowed my hands to explore, making it clear that I wanted more than just a kiss. But he denied me and pulled the covers over us before I could pull my dress off.

"Just rest," he instructed me as he gently stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers.

I pretended to huff but I really wasn't that disappointed. If there is one thing marrying so young has taught me, it's that time is not really much of an issue. The ghosts have been few and far between over the past few years so Jesse and I have had plenty of time to just relax and be a couple. We had all the time in the world in that respect...well, alright; we have seven months now that I am pregnant but whatever.

"We'll get through this," Jesse whispered when I rested my head on his chest. It was an uncomfortable position for me, but I wasn't planning on sleeping for hours, so I was more than happy just basking in my husband's warmth.

"I hope," I spoke in reply.

-+-

Despite my position, I slept soundly until Jesse climbed out of bed to shower. He tried not to wake me, but I have been sleeping lightly ever since the first appearance of the black goo. I guess it was a defence mechanism, but it was annoying the hell out of me. I am thankful that Jesse (or even myself) doesn't snore, otherwise I would never get any sleep.

I showered after Jesse, realising that I was a bit...um...sticky from our antics on the couch the night before. And there was the thin strip of dried blood along my hairline from the creepy ghost's attack. The warm water felt so refreshing against my grimy skin. So refreshing, in fact, that I found myself sighing...just like that woman in that shampoo advert. Which are a total con because the only thing that shampoo does to _me_ is make my hair smell nice. And I wasn't as loud as that woman...I mean, hello? I'm in a hotel. And God forbid Jesse should think I'm having fun on my own. See? I'm so out of it that I'm babbling again...in my head. How pathetic...

Fortunately I dressed myself in the bathroom because when I walked out I saw that we had company. And one of our visitors did _not_ look happy. Ok, that's an understatement...he looked pissed.

Jack simply looked at me and shrugged. He looked more cheerful now that he had slept for a few hours...and changed into a Sonic the Hedgehog t-shirt. I guess that his relationship with his older brother has not changed much over the years because Paul refused to look in his direction while Jack just looked indifferent...like he was so used to his attitude that he wasn't at all surprised. Then again, I guess Paul was just in a foul mood from being roused at four am by his teenage brother who, by rights, should be in school...in Seattle.

"Morning," Jack greeted. I smiled in his direction before taking a seat at the table between Jesse and Paul. When he felt my presence, Paul removed his head from where he had been resting it in his hands and smiled feebly at me.

"I...uh. I was doing some research into your house," he said, pulling a folded up piece of paper from his pocket. "There is nothing unusual at all about it...no murders or attacks were carried out inside and the house was built on old farmland, just like the neighbouring houses. Then I did some research into the area and it has not been host to a violent attack in the past hundred years or so. So, I got my hands on the list of improvements that the previous owners made to the house. The most noticeable one was the fireplace and they bought the wood for it from a local garden store. I figured that I would look into the fireplace because it was the first place the...entity was seen."

I blinked in amazement, wondering how the hell he managed to get his hands on all of this information. Then I realised...he is a lawyer.

"It turns out that the wood they used for the fireplace was logged from a forest in Africa," he continued. "A specific area, in fact...so I researched it and _this_ came up..." He pushed the paper towards me and I smoothed it out before glancing down at it.

It was an article printed off from a historical website about African tribes. I did not understand most of the words, but that did not matter...a crude drawing of a man was framed on one corner of the page. The drawing looked ancient and, like I said, it was very crude but the basic features of its subject were strangely familiar...the long dreads, the facial paint, the scowl.

"That's him!" I gasped, jabbing my finger at the picture. "That's the guy who attacked me last night!"

The paper was ripped from my view by Jack, eager to look at the man we would be dealing with.

"His name is Nakisisa Kapeni," Paul explained. "He was a shaman...a shifter, mediator, whatever you want to call it. He was healer of an ancient tribe until he discovered his otherworldly abilities and then began to assist the souls of the dead. But, he became power hungry when he learnt that his powers extended beyond helping the dead and healing the living. He became a recluse and began to use black magic to enhance his abilities. He soon became out of control and the members of the tribe were powerless to stop him. He killed all of the other shamen to 'absorb' their power...he believed that by killing those with power, he could fuse it with that which he already possessed. Eventually he was overpowered and killed, but they say that the part of the forest where he was buried became haunted. Plants and animals would die and the tribe eventually moved away when they were struck with illness."

"So...his...'essence' was brought over when they felled that area of the forest?" Jesse asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

"More than that," Paul replied. "_He_ was brought over. I told you before that an object can be haunted. Obviously Nakisisa did not want to die, so he clung desperately to life. I guess that his life force or essence or whatever you want to call it transferred itself into the trees. When the forest was felled and the previous owners of your house bought the wood, he was brought to your house.."

I shook my head frantically, trying to make sense of all of this.

"Why us?" I asked, vocalising my thoughts. "Why does the piece of wood that our fireplace is constructed from just happen to be the one that houses the vengeaful spirit of a psychotic shaman?"

Paul chuckled lightly, which I found highly annoying. I'd like to see how he would act if it was _his_ house that was haunted.

"Well," he said, leaning back in his chair and smiling at me rather smugly. "Maybe it is because you are a mediator...and you are the only mediator who came into contact with the wood...maybe he _chose_ you. Or it could just be a coincidence...you could just be unlucky."

I hit his knee hard for this comment, causing him to yell in protest.

"So...what do we do about it?" Jack asked, putting emphasis on the word 'we'. "How do we stop him?"

Paul seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, obviously recalling his shifting knowledge.

"I know it sounds all Supernatural-ish," he suggested. "But I suggest we find the body and burn it. It's usually the only effective way of getting rid of a spirit who has merged their being with an object."

A dry, humourless laugh was ripped from my throat. Jet over to Africa? I don't think so, buddy. I'm pregnant, constantly exhausted and can't go two meals without throwing up. I am so sure that I can trek into the middle of an African forest and dig up a several-thousand year old corpse just to salt it and set fire to it.

I voiced my feelings, which only caused Paul to scowl at me. What? It was a perfectly reasonable answer. Though I admit I could have toned down the language.

"Susannah, the body isn't in Africa," he said in a tone that suggested I was stupid. "The logging company made a deal with the African government to exhume all the bodies of tribe members from logging sites before they began work. The government failed to specify what would happen to the bodies so a group of archaeologists took them off their hands and sold them to museums. The bodies from the area Nakisisa was apparently buried in went to museums in New York, Vancouver, San Francisco and Ohio."

Museums? Yeah, like that made it more comforting?

"So all we have to do is fly to these museums, torch the bodies and high tail it back here before the cops realise what we have done?. Great plan, Paul."

I was stunned when Jack spoke, even more so by the level of sarcasm in his voice

"Well, it's better than nothing," I said, shrugging slightly. Because what else would we do? It was either break into some insanely large museum and burn one three-thousand year old carcass and live happily ever after or spend the rest of my life running from the crazy knife guy. It makes me wonder why I even bother with this mediating crap anymore. It didn't matter so much when I was a teenager, but I didn't really have much of a life back then. But unfortunately mediating is not a part-time job...not when you inadvertantly put yourself in the path of a psychopathic killing machine. But hey...that's the story of my life right there.

"We research," Paul said. "We find out as much as we can about these bodies and see if we can identify which one belongs to our ghostly friend. Until then...well, I guess we have to stick together. Because if what I read about this guy is true...us shifters are going to have to watch each other's backs."

He ended this suggestion with a smile and suddenly I was filled with doubt...because although the corners of his mouth turned skyward, his _eyes_ did not smile... It sounds stupid, I know, but it is quite easy to tell when someone is faking a smile.

But how hard could this be? I've dealt with violent ghosts before, surely this shaman couldn't be any different...right?

**AN - I'm not to happy with this but I need to get it out, lol. I swear it will start getting better :)...at least I hope it will...you guys can be the judge of that ;).**

**A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate it.**

**Emmohdee - I can't remember if I replied to your review, so here goes...Jesse _didn't_ see the ghost. He dematerialized just before Jesse burst into the room. He had only just become corporeal so he wasn't really ready for a full-on confrontation just yet :).**

**Review please :).**


	11. Note

I hate to do this, but...

I am putting this story on hiatus for the moment due to a number of things. Those include exams that need to be revised for, writer's block and a difficult time for my family.

I have no idea how long this hiatus will last, but I will get back to the story as soon as I can (I actually have half of the next chapter written already). I just didn't want to leave you guys wondering if I was ever going to update again, lol.

I'm sorry, but I had to do this.

Thanks for understanding :).


	12. Finding The Fiend

**Something Wicked **

Did I mention how much I _love_ research? How much I adore whiling away my time looking through a microfiche?

I didn't...and that is because I _hate_ researching. I hated researching at high school and at college and now I have to research for something that isn't going to pay off.

My secretary told me how exhausted I looked when I turned up for work every morning. No shit, Sherlock. You just try staying up until the early hours of the morning scanning customs records and museum pamphlets then waking up to puke every few hours when you _do_ get to sleep...you wouldn't even qualify for Crufts, let alone Miss America. Jesse had told me to take it easy and found out the hard way that you never tell a determined, hormonal woman to 'take it easy'. Especially when all she wasn't to do is get rid of this ghost so that she can go back to her house and continue to live like a married woman who is expecting her first child should...worrying if she will be a good mother, choosing baby names, turning the spare room into a nursery and making love to her husband as much as possible before her stomach inflates to beach-ball size.

"Anything?" Jack asked, throwing aside his final newspaper.

"Nope...though we can rule out Vancouver," I replied, crossing the name of the museum from my list. "They only received female corpses...so unless this guy was a eunuch, we shouldn't bother looking there."

" New York is out, too," Jack said. "The bodies there were exhumed from graves in a different forest."

I let my head fall down onto the table and groaned. Ohio and San Francisco were left. Personally, I was hoping for San Francisco...it was closer.

I yawned once more, the lack of sleep getting to me. It was only three pm.

"Maybe we should just call it a day?" I suggested, throwing my newspapers back into the box they came from. "Jesse and Paul _must_ have got something by now, so I guess we should check in with them...after I get a sub in me, I'm starving."

As if on cue, my stomach gave a gentle rumble and I instinctively placed a hand over it. How long has it been since I last ate? Days? OK, not quite that long but it felt like it. So Jack helped me pile all of the newspapers back into the boxes (any boxes...since when was _anything _in the library in order? All the chief librarian does all day is sit with her feet on her desk, filing her nails) and we walked down the street for our subs. I felt like doubling up today.

All the searching through newspapers was tiring me out. My hands were constantly black from the ink and they smelled like my grandmother's old photo collection. You know the smell...all mouldy and damp. But Paul somehow managed to persuade us into letting him search the internet and Jesse was at work until at least six pm. I had no appointments for a few days so my superior gave me the time off with me being with child and all. Unfortunately this meant sitting in a library with Jack for hours on end every day getting absolutely nowhere as far as a location of shaman-dude's rotting corpse went. Today was day four of searching and it was the first time we had come across anything. It kind of reminded me of the time Jesse and I had to search through old newspapers for the identity of the boyfriend of the cryptic ghost who kept appearing in my room. Of course, that was way back before we were married...before we were engaged, even. In fact, it was thanks to that ghost and her boyfriend that Jesse proposed to me. And it was also thanks to that ghost and her boyfriend that Paul has that dazzling scar across his chest.

As I chowed down on my Sub of the Day I thought about my previous ghostly experiences...Heather Chambers, The RLS Angels, Maria de Silva Diego and her delightful husband Felix, Craig Jankow, Harold Raimes, Philip...They had all tried to kill me, but I had won out in the end. Granted, only once was on my own and I did come pretty close to dying a few times, but I _did_ come out alive. Maybe there was some higher force up there, looking after me. Even my brushes with the alive variety of nutcases (Marcus Beaumont, Paul Slater and Ryan Morton to name a few) turned out well. So I really shouldn't be worrying about this shaman guy (see...I forgot his name already!).

Luck aside, though, I am perfectly capable of handling anything the Powers That Be throw my way.

That said, I still don't know how Spiderman can stand this. I realised one lonely night when Jesse was working late that we were sort of similar. We both possess a gift that we never asked for, a responsibility that neither of us want to have, yet we still do what we do. We could just hide in the shadows, pretending to be normal people and just hope that our gift will go away (well, ok, maybe not me...Peter Parker doesn't have the ghost of the Green Goblin waking him up at two am by screaming his whole house down...things like that are kind of hard to ignore). Peter has his Mary Jane, I have my Jesse. I spent a few months of my Junior year protecting Jesse from the big bad Paul Slater while Peter was off protecting Mary Jane from whoever was taking a pop at her that week. But I still don't get the 'with great power comes great responsibility' thing. Sure, we have to take responsibility for our _actions_, but does that really mean that we have to go out there using our powers for the greater good? What if we just want to settle down? Is there ever a time when our responsibility ends? When our 'debt to society' has been paid? I mean, what does an eighty-year-old Mediator do? Apart from constantly watch Family Feud and pretend to drool a lot?

Things like that have been bothering me ever since I found out that I was pregnant. I can't be a full time wife, mother, psychologist _and_ mediator all at the same time without being lousy at at least one of them. I owe it to my husband, child and patients to be good at the first three, so what does that leave? Surely one less active mediator wouldn't do any harm?

Yeah, that's how much spare time I have on my hands. It took me a while to come up with that lame Spiderman analogy.

We found Jesse and Paul huddled around a computer at the internet cafe across the road from the library. They were pleased to hear of our progress and showed us what they had found so far. Which was a relief because I remember once when I asked Adam to research something for me in our senior year. He was missing for about two hours when I finally decided to see what he was up to. Oh, he was in front of a computer alright...and he was howling with laughter. You know what I caught him watching? That damn penguin video...you know the one I'm talking about...the one where one penguin hits another and it falls through the ice. He had been watching that short clip for two freaking hours! That was the day I learned not to trust a guy with a job you could do perfectly fine yourself...

"Well, I guess we will be flying to San Francisco, then," Paul announced, smiling in a deceptively sweet manner. San Francisco? Oh well, I guess it could have been worse.

"You got your credit card?" I asked him. His eyebrows raised in alarm and he checked over his shoulder to see if I was actually speaking to him.

"Wait..._I'm_ paying for this?" he demanded, completely flabbergasted. "Remind me..._who_ is this guy trying to kill? Whose house is he terrorising?"

I raised _my_ eyebrows and tapped my foot impatiently with my arms crossed across my stomach.

"Don't give me that...I know how much you lawyers earn," I said. "And either you pay for the tickets or I steal your card when you aren't looking."

* * *

"I think I like this new you," Jesse laughed and we settled into out seats. Of course, I fought for the window seat and insisted that my husband sat beside me. Jack and Paul took the seats behind us and I could hear them arguing for the seat with the view. 

"What do you mean?" I asked curiously. I had slid my issue of Cosmo into the pouch on the back of the seat in front of me. I honestly don't know why I bought it; the flight was only an hour long and I had a lot to think about. Like how I was going to break into a museum without being seen. Not to mention destroy one of the museum's exhibits.

"You seem more like the teenage you," Jesse replied. "More devious. How else could you have 'persuaded' Paul into paying for this trip?"

I smiled as I realised what he was trying to say. I thought women weren't supposed to get hormonal until the late stages of pregnancy. Shows how much I know. Maybe I should have bought a pregnancy magazine instead of Cosmo...Cosmo wasn't going to tell me anything I didn't already know.

I rested my head on Jesse's shoulder as the other passengers boarded the plane. I hadn't been on an aeroplane in so long. We tried to get away as often as possible but we had not had a real vacation in so long.

"Jesse," I purred. "When all this is over, do you think we could go back to St. Lucia? Just the two of us...before the baby is born."

There was silence as he considered this. But when he spoke it was obvious that his reply took no consideration at all.

"Of course." I could hear the smile in his voice. "That would be nice."

I leaned into him and kissed him, not caring that everyone on the plane would be able to see us. It felt like so long since we had kissed properly, too. In the week since Jack's arrival all we seemed to do was research, eat and sleep. Usually one after the other...sometimes at the same time. In fact, last night I fell asleep on the comfortable chair in the corner the hotel bedroom instead of next to Jesse in the bed. And the rare moments that we did share together, we always ended up arguing about the current situation. So you can see why I enjoyed a blatantly obvious kiss in a packed aeroplane. I enjoyed the feel of his soft lips on mine, of his tongue gently teasing mine. I enjoyed it so much that I slid my fingertips (just my fingertips, it _is_ a public place) underneath his t-shirt in a teasing manner. I ran them along one of the ridges of muscle, feeling it tense beneath my touch.

"_Querida_," he said in a strangled whisper when he pulled away. "Not here."

I smiled and pecked him on the lips before nuzzling his neck affectionately.

Maybe it was his warmth or the fact that I was about ten weeks gone now but I suddenly felt very sleepy. Now this is one pregnancy symptom that I could live with. The sore breasts (which _were_ starting to get bigger, though not noticeably...certain items of clothing were becoming slightly tight around that area) and sickness not so much, but the fatigue? That was a blessing. I could pretend to be asleep if anyone annoyed me and they wouldn't try to wake me. An advantage like that is so worth having.

"I know that things have not been right between us lately," Jesse whispered. "On account of the ghost. But I love you more than anything; I just want you to know that."

His words made me unbelievably happy and I was able to fall asleep with a smile on my face, my fingers still pressed against the warm skin of his abdomen. Needless to say, my dream wasn't exactly G-rated.

I had to make the most of the time we had left because I knew that the crazy Shaman was not going to let us near his body without putting up a fight. But was I ready to take on whatever he threw at me? I was usually so sure about things like this, but this time...something didn't feel right.

**AN - I had the sudden urge to write so I finished this chapter off. Apologies for the short length. I realised that it has been lacking in fluff lately, so...I guess I will have to make up for that :). **

**Thank you to all you lovely reviewers and to everyone who was nice about the hiatus (which didn't last as long as I thought it would, lol...). **

**A very happy christmas/hanukkah/holiday to everyone and happy new year! **


	13. Time Out

**Something Wicked**

**Warning: This chapter kind of borderlines on M...I think. Just be wary.**

It was no Pebble Beach, that was for sure. But still, the hotel had a certain charm. I have never been to San Francisco before, as crazy as it sounds. I mean, it's a big city and we live reasonably close to it. But ever since I moved to Carmel when I was sixteen I have hardly left it. Well, there was our honeymoon and that vacation we took in Spain after my college graduation...and the week we spent in England after my high school graduation. Alright, so I rarely left Carmel to go anywhere _in America_.

It was a beautiful sunny day when we checked in at noon, leaving plenty of time to explore. Except, of course, Paul had drawn up a plan so that we could get back to Carmel (and he could no doubt return to Seattle) as soon as possible. So, we would visit the museum later today and return after closing time to observe their external security system. It was a fairly old museum so we shouldn't face many problems. At least no natural ones...supernatural problems were inevitable.

Tomorrow night was the big night. We still weren't sure how we were going to destroy the body without a) incriminating ourselves and b) burning down the whole museum in the process. I suggested burning the whole museum down to start with (hello? slightly hormonal woman here) but Jesse just looked at me as though I had suggested burning down the Reich museum or Le Louvre. Ok, so it wasn't a back alley museum or anything but it wasn't exactly the Museum of Natural History, either! I ran a search on it before we left and it didn't have an official website.

I could feel myself getting wound up about it so I decided to just relax until the time came to move out. I personally wanted to try out the jacuzzi tub in our bathroom.

But...I wasn't in the mood to wash up. I had showered just before we left Carmel two hours ago and my hair goes really dry if I wash it more frequently than once a day for some reason.

It turned out that there was a lot of other stuff in the room to occupy me. Such as the strange rotating blinds. And the weird thermostat thing that whirred when I twisted it.

God, where_ was_ Jesse? All he was supposed to do was go out and get me some damn apple juice. I have been craving the stuff like you would not believe. But you know men...they get distracted by the slightest thing. Then again, usually the only thing that ever distracted Jesse was me. Maybe someone got hurt and he stopped to help? After all, he _does_ have a large caring side. Kind and compassionate, that's Jesse in a nutshell.

I chose to turn on the television that stood on a desk facing the bed. I flicked straight to the music channels as usual and eventually found one that wasn't playing either Justin Timberlake or My Chemical Romance. I have nothing against either of them but they are seriously overplayed. The channel I found was in the middle of a 'movie soundtrack day' ("playing all your favourite songs from your favourite movies"). Tina Turner was busy belting out _Goldeneye_ when I dropped the remote onto the bed and walked over to the window.

I had fun opening the blinds and then simply enjoyed the San Franciscan view. I don't really know how to describe it; it was a city, the view was nice. That's it...seriously. I barely registered the click of the hotel room door opening and closing. I didn't even realise that I was no longer alone until I felt arms around me and lips on the back of my neck.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look in that top?" Jesse whispered huskily.

I smiled, observing his reflection in the window as his hand came up to pull my long hair over one shoulder so that he was able to move his head beside mine without a mass of brown waves between us. I shuddered when I felt the contact of his cheek on mine and the warmth that this contact caused to surge through me. It was then that a familiar tune filled my ears; soft guitar chords soon followed by the introduction of a slow bass line and steady drum beat...and the vocals.

"Oh," Jesse laughed, pulling back so that I was able to turn around and face him. "It's our song."

I closed my eyes slowly and laughed, resting my forehead against his. Of course, our wedding song. After much deliberation we had selected Iris by Goo Goo Dolls; a song that perfectly described our relationship up until the night Jesse was given a second chance at life.

I was about to sing along when strong lips captured mine and kissed me softly and sweetly. I guess he did it so that I wouldn't start singing. Not that I was complaining, of course. In fact, one of my hands seemed to take on a mind of its own and reached behind me to close the blinds. Of course, this just encouraged him and one of his hands pressed in the small of my back so that I stumbled into him.

"What took you so long?" I asked, tearing my lips away from his. I both heard and felt him sigh in disappointment but he did not pull away from me.

"Does it matter?" he asked. "I'm here now, am I not?" His voice wavered only a tiny bit but I picked up on it. It was as though he felt guilty about something. I smiled. He never likes disappointing me, even though most of the time I am far from disappointed.

"I guess I can let it slide this time," I whispered as I pulled him towards me for a kiss. He didn't brace himself as we fell against the wall so his body pressed firmly into my own, allowing me to feel everything that lay beneath his interfering clothes. It's strange how his body still drives me wild after six years of marriage. Don't get me wrong, I love him wholly and completely, heart, mind and soul, but his body is just too fine to not worship in every way possible.

And the best way to worship said body? Yeah, that would be to remove all the clothing that hid its perfection from view.

He didn't seem to mind, not if the way his fingers found their way to the button on the front of my jeans said anything. I could feel the warmth of his fingers, even through the thin material of my underwear as they hastily pulled down the zip and tugged the thick material away from my body. It was enough to make me forget all about the apple juice when his fingers brushed against bare skin and woke all the nerves that mattered. The effect seemed more explosive then usual. Maybe it was the fact that it had been too long since his fingers had ventured anywhere near that area (well, alright, a week or two, but that was still too long).

His hands slid slowly down my thighs, pushing my jeans out of the way. I knew that he did this on purpose because every time his large, beautifully calloused hands went anywhere above my knees my legs threatened to buckle. Seriously, it's like they had this magic effect on me. He even had the nerve to laugh lightly and use his other hand to pull the thin strap of my cami off my shoulder. I barely even heard my jeans hit the floor. I attempted to kick them off to the side but in real life having sex and getting undressed for it is nothing like it is in the movies. So, naturally, my ankle became stuck in the damn denim and I had to sort of stand on one leg and wiggle the other one until I was free.

The fingers that had been laced through the belt hoops of my jeans began to work their way back up my thighs, pressing into the skin ever so gently when they met the curve of my backside.

"Ah," I moaned as the fingers began to trace my spine upwards. "How do you know my body better than I do?"

"Perhaps because a person has most knowledge about something that they love," he panted. His lips were playing havoc on my senses as they peppered the side of my neck with sweet kisses. "And I love driving you crazy."

I gasped again, my back arching when I felt his warms fingers undo the clasp on my bra. Up until that moment I had actually forgotten that I was wearing one.

I could barely register my cami disappearing, or the bra that dropped to the floor when I was swept up into his arms. I couldn't even control myself when I pulled his T-shirt over his head and ran my fingers across the muscles that had previously been unfairly hidden.

"I love you," he whispered, moving into me so that I could feel his now-bare legs against my own. "Never forget that."

And I wouldn't. I knew that much because as soon as his lips covered mine all thoughts were chased from my mind and all that remained was the knowledge of his love and of the way they he loved making me happy.

I was burning up, both inside and out. Even the sheets of the bed beneath me no longer felt cool. My body was aching for other reasons, too, and this only made the pleasure even more painful.

My eyes drifted shut, the light becoming too much to bear with the assault on my other four senses. His lips were everywhere...how was that even possible? His kisses lingered for so long that I couldn't quite place where his lips were at that exact moment. All I could feel were tiny fires blazing on my skin and the thin layer of fabric that seemed to be glued to my skin with sweat. I wanted to remove it but suddenly my fingers were buried in a mass of black hair, my lips under a heavenly assault. Then...Jesse accomplished the simple task that I seemed unable to carry out.

His hand glided up my thigh, his long fingers hooking the top of my underwear and pulling them down. They twisted, damp from a ridiculous amount of sweat. When his hand moved back up to my waist it remained there, fingers pressing into my spine, as he continued to kiss me slowly and sweetly.

Needless to say, things didn't stop there...

* * *

"Do you think Paul will be mad that we didn't meet him?" I asked. I had to try hard to conceal a smile because honestly, I couldn't care less what Paul thought about us not turning up. Let's just say that Jesse and I found better things to do. Much better things. 

"Honestly? I don't really care," Jesse laughed, voicing, as he so often did, exactly what I was thinking. "But if he asks, I will just blame you."

"Blame me? How is it my fault?" I asked, scandalised. _He_ seduced _me_!

"Well...the kiss on the plane," he reminded me. "Technically that was when your seduction started. Then you changed clothes...you really do look irresistable in that top."

I laughed out loud, leaning down to kiss him on the nose.

"Pur-lease." I began to play along. "You weren't exactly trying to stop me."

"I never said I wanted to stop you."

Suddenly, with a rustle of the duvet and a well-aimed lunge, I found myself on my back with him beside me but hovering directly above me. I playfully thumped him on the shoulder before wrapping my arms around his torso; a move he obviously wasn't expecting.

"No more," I laughed, even though my body language was screaming something completely different. "Please, or else I won't be able to walk until the baby is born."

"Don't push your luck, _querida_, you wore me out hours ago," he chuckled. I could feel his lips against my temple and his laugh reverberated through his chest in a frighteningly pleasant way.

"Why can't this be it?" I asked. The heat that had built up between us was slowly fading and I was forced to move further into him to enjoy it for even a nanosecond longer. "Why can't we just relax like this without having to worry about some black goo or psychopathic shaman who wants to go all Sylar on my ass?"

He breathed in and out deeply but did not reply. I know that I should wish to be normal but deep down I don't. Because if I was normal I never would have met Jesse. I never would have grown up with my father by my side and I would not be the woman I am today. It is the little things that make us who we are. The small gestures that Jesse makes, like pulling the blanket up to my chin when I shiver in my sleep and letting me shower first are what makes him who he is; the perfect husband, the love of my life, my soul mate and the best friend I could ever hope to have. And who would I be without my sarcasm, my wit (haha) and inability to believe in verbal negotiation? Without my strange gift? I would be just another girl walking down the street.

"You know what? Forget I said that."

And I melted into his arms, knowing that I could not sleep comfortably in that position for long and not really caring, either. I could feel his hand shake uneasily as it ran up and down my arm. He held me as though he would never hold me again.

"_Querida_, I don't want to lose you..."

**AN - Apologies for the delay. What can I say? Writer's block coupled with a lot of schoolwork. I have more work coming up and exams that need to be revised for so I can't say when the next update will be. This chapter may seem a bit pointless but whatever...when did fluff need a point? lol.**

**Thank you to those of you who reviewed, hello to those of you who just read, and thank you again to those of you who asked me to update (because I never knew that people like this story that much, lol).**

**Apologies for spelling mistakes...no doubt I have missed some again.**

**Please review :).**


End file.
